Red vs Blue: The Mission
by Starath
Summary: Trained by Master Chief himself, the Blood Gulch crew go on their first mission as real soldiers.  What could possibly go wrong?  Note: Contains strong language and spoilers from Reconstruction.
1. Prologue

The Mission

A Record by Starath

_Author's Incredibly Long Note:_ _This is… well, I'm not sure what this is, besides one of the longest, most epic tales I've put to paper. At first I was going to keep this story to myself, but as it grew, I decided it was worth sharing. This is a story from my alternate universe of Red vs. Blue. You'll see almost everybody in here at least once— but be warned, there are spoilers to Reconstruction in here! Go watch it if you haven't! Really! You won't be disappointed!_

_I've only played the first Halo game, so I had to do a lot of research to make sure I got things right in the bigger Halo universe. Any canon errors are accidental; please go easy on me of you find any._

_Extra special thanks goes to Omicron the Icequeen, who gave up her time and sanity to read this monstrosity for editing (seriously, it's over 150 pages long). My thanks also goes to d3jake for helping me with technical details, Amusedbookworm for giving me feedback, and to you readers who are sitting here in the first place! _

_Red vs. Blue and its characters belong to Rooster Teeth, creators of the best machinima ever. Hope I do your work some justice, guys! You rock!_

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**Prologue**

Okay, so here's the deal: I live with soldiers.

Not the ones who go to Iraq or Afghanistan, the kind that come from the _Halo_ universe. Yeah, you know, that game? Well, technically, only one of them is from the game. The rest are from _Red vs. Blue_. Those guys trapped in a box canyon with nowhere to go, fighting a war that's not even real. Those guys. Except that they're here now, because of a warp in parallel universes or something. I still think Caboose showed up first because Church kicked him so hard he broke through realities. Eventually they all showed up: Sarge, Donut, Church, Wyoming…the whole crew. After I started playing _Halo: Combat Evolved_, Chief showed up too. Luckily the Chief is calm, steady and keeps everyone in line with his mere presence. When he's not here, the guys tend to bicker.

Aren't I a lucky girl?

Can you hear me scream from there?

Now 'why would I do that?' you are no doubt asking. Wouldn't it be cool to be surrounded by the soldiers from _Red vs. Blue_, most of whom just _have _to be gorgeous guys, right? And the Master Chief! He must be made of awesome! Actually, yes he is...

I don't really know how to act around him, though. He's so… military, and to him, I'm a civilian, something to protect, but also something of a liability if battle were to break out here. Not that it will. We're in the frozen North of the United States, not on a Halo ring or some far-off planet occupied by Covenant forces. It's not like Chief's cold-hearted or anything… he's quite nice. I wish I had his patience and sense of confidence, but like I said, he's a military guy and almost always in his Mjolnir armor. As a result it's sometimes it's easy to forget he's human.

He also likes pancakes, and strong black coffee.

What about the _Red vs. Blue_ guys? Well, they're another story. They're not as bad as they used to be. All of them mostly get along now, after accepting that there really is no "Red" and "Blue". That revelation hit Sarge the hardest, but he got over it, thank goodness. Since then the Reds (they still call themselves that, since they are on separate teams) have moved into the storage buildings across the street. I don't know how (or where they got the supplies) but they've refurnished the buildings into an operating home base. The Blues lived here with me for a while before they took over the storage building next to where the Reds are. And the Freelancers? Well, they're like Master Chief. I have no idea where they go. I see Tex most often since she hangs around Church. Both of them are still technically 'ghosts,' but they get along okay.

My house is something of a neutral territory for everyone to come and hang out. Donut discovered he likes cooking, so he and Doc take care of meals when everyone descends at the supper table. Oh, and O'Malley…. We managed to get him out of Doc's head, but he has gotten a new body for himself. He now wreaks havoc whenever he wants. Don't ask, it's a long story.

When Master Chief arrived and met the Blood Gulch crew, he couldn't believe they would call themselves soldiers. They were too busy fighting among each other to be effective at doing anything but talking a potential enemy to death. Most of them couldn't use their weapons very well. Or aim properly. With the exception of Sarge and the Freelancers, the guys hadn't had anything beyond basic combat training, either. Yet they wore modified Mjolnir armor and called themselves soldiers. The truth was, only the Freelancers were true soldiers. It may have been that Master Chief had nothing better to do, but he decided to train the Blood Gulch crew into a proper military team.

They resisted at first, but enough 3 AM wake-up calls and forced combat situations swayed the guys to see things Master Chief's way.

A good thing, too. I was getting tired of jolting awake to the bark of "ATTEN-SHUN!_ Move it men!"_

Chief can be really loud when he wants to be.

He also had his work cut out for him: He had to _encourage_ Grif and Tucker to participate when they'd prefer to stand off to the side and watch the others. This involved chasing them with the Warthog so they'd run their laps. As the rookie, Donut had to learn everything he could from Sarge. Caboose had to be taught more than the rest; his training included learning simple math at the kitchen table. Doc needed up-to-date medical skills. Simmons learned to depend more on himself than his team leader.

Church….

Church was difficult, of course. His temperament wasn't ideal for being a team leader, and neither was his short fuse. Freelancers Tex, Wyoming, and York made sure to give them all hell while they were out on combat training missions. Later, when Agent Washington arrived, Chief had more help training them.

Wait, I can hear you now: The _Red vs. Blue _guys CAN'T be real soldiers; their ineptitude is part of their charm! Fear not, readers; they've become more disciplined and mature, but I can most definitely assure you that they haven't lost any of their _charm_ whatsoever.

However, at one time I had underestimated just how much the guys have changed. I had no way of knowing until I saw it for myself.

At risk of sounding cliché, it all started while I was doing dishes one night in February. Tucker was drying whatever I put in the drain rack, humming along with the song coming out of the stereo. He really is a black guy, by the way. He's not very dark, but enough to show where some of his heritage came from. Like all soldiers his black hair is kept short, but it's kind of curly. All of the guys are pretty big— but Tucker is among one of the 'smaller' guys. He's a scout or runner in battle when he feels inclined to do something. He's also a total flirt, by the way.

Just so you know, unless they're coming through during a training session, they're not in their armor. Those boots would scratch the kitchen tile and they'd ruin the furniture. Through the magic of Sarge's resources, and Wal*Mart, they have street clothes to wear. The only two who are allowed to wear armor in the house are Church and Tex, but that's because they live in the armor as 'ghosts.'

Caboose was hunched over the kitchen table that night, doing some math homework Master Chief had given him. He scratched behind his ear with his pencil's eraser, muttering to himself. Caboose is one of the _big_ guys. Blue team calls him their 'heavy hitter.' If he hadn't been a soldier he'd fit right in with a football team, and even then, the largest opponent would hesitate to charge him. He's also the sweetest guy I have ever met. Predictably he's a blonde, with freckles, and the bluest eyes possible. He's not as dumb as one would think, either; Caboose just "Has a different way of thinking," as Simmons once put it. He helps educate Caboose when Chief is busy.

One of the recliners in the living room squeaked in time with the music. I couldn't see him from where I was, but I knew it was Grif. He was being unusually quiet that night and I was worried about him. For some reason he'd been having the hardest time adjusting to the role of a proper soldier. We suspected it was due to lack of self-confidence. He's the Red team's heavy hitter even though Sarge said he did a lousy job at it. That didn't seem to bother him, yet _something_ did. But because he was too busy pretending to be happy, we couldn't get him to admit anything.

Grif's appearance reflected his laid-back attitude. Unlike the others, he kept himself somewhat scruffy. I always wondered if he needed a hay rake to straighten up his chestnut-colored hair in the morning.

"Hey Star?" asked Caboose.

I set the plate I was scrubbing in the sink. "Yes?"

"Can I use your transforming cars again?"

"Sure." Drying my hands, I left the sink and stepped beside him. He had a pad of graph paper in front of him, along with loose scratch paper, and his 'math book' spread out on the table. Caboose had done five graphing problems out of a set of twelve so far. "Which ones do you want?"

"Um… I like that white and blue one, and the green one that looks like the Warthog." He tapped his chin. "Oh! Can I use the jet ones too please?"

I giggled and resisted the urge to pat him on the head like a big puppy. "I'll get them for you."

He smiled, his blue eyes sparkling. "Thanks!"

A bowl clattered in the cupboard, and Tucker threw his dishtowel over his shoulder. "I'll finish up the dishes for you, Star."

"Oh," I paused on the way out of the kitchen. "You don't have to."

He shrugged. "I'll give me something to do."

"Okay. Suit yourself." It wasn't like Tucker to volunteer to do dishes, but I wasn't going to protest. He probably wanted brownie points anyway. When I came back to the kitchen, I took the long way around through the living room. Grif was still rocking back and forth in the easy chair, staring at the air in front of him.

"Hey Grif."

He blinked and a smile flitted across his face. "Hey Star."

"Are you okay?"

"Huh?"

"You haven't said anything since you left supper."

"Oh. I've just been thinking."

"About anything in particular?"

Grif cringed a bit. "Tomorrow."

"What's special about tomorrow?" I asked, curious.

The dishes stopped rattling in the sink. At the table, Caboose looked up from his homework. Grif shifted uneasily in the chair. "We have a big mission tomorrow," he finally said.

I swallowed. "Oh." And tried to lighten his mood. "You guys have had missions before. You've always come through clean."

"This one's for real." He said quietly.

"With aliens and stuff." added Caboose. "Mister Chief won't be with us, either."

I approached the table and dropped the tiny Transformers toys he'd requested. "You guys will be fine. You've been training really hard. I bet it'll be a breeze."

Tucker made a sound like a snort followed by a cough. "Yeah Star. We'll get it done."

Caboose picked up the two jets and checked the line graph he'd drawn. He pretended to fly the jets at each other like they were going to crash. At the last moment he veered them away from impact, mumbling an equation made of numbers and letters. He set the toys down and adjusted something he'd written next to his line graph. "These are really hard. Mister Chief said I have to get them done before tomorrow."

"I'm glad the toys help, Caboose."

"Me too! When I get bored, I can turn them into little robots!"

I laughed. "That's the best part about Transformers."

A sharp tap on the back door made me jump. Sarge waved at me through the glass and pointed at the door lock. I popped it open for him and got out of the way before he came in, shaking snow off his standard-issue Red Army jacket. He stomped a few times to get the caked snow out of his boots and ran his fingers through closely trimmed blonde-white hair.

"Good evening Mister Sergeant!" said Caboose.

"Evenin' fellas." He nodded at me. "Ma'am."

"Hi Sarge. Want me to take your coat? The snow must be blowing pretty hard out there."

"Nah, I'm fine. I just came over to get Grif."

A long sigh came from the living room. "I finished packing everything already before supper, Sarge."

"I'm glad for you. Chief wants another run-down before we head out tomorrow."

"What, again?"

"You wanna ask why to his face?"

"No…"

"Then move it. Meetin' starts in less than ten minutes, Private. After he's done with us he'll be talking to the Blues as well."

Tucker nodded and set a pan into the drain rack. "I'll be back over when I'm done."

"I have to finish my homework first," said Caboose with a slight whine in his voice. "You can tell Mister Chief I'm on number six."

"Will do." Sarge smiled. Whenever he did his eyes seemed to disappear into facial features that looked like they'd been carved out of granite. He and Wyoming were the oldest out of all the soldiers, but age meant nothing to Sarge. "Age is nothin' but a number!" he liked to say, usually followed by something like "Why, I'm sharp as a cactus and thirty times as fast!"

Part of Sarge's charm was you never knew what he was going to say next.

For some reason he reminded me of my grandfather, and a friendly bulldog. He tended to bark a lot and didn't always need a shotgun to have any bite. Since Master Chief's arrival he'd realized the role of Red Leader was more important than he'd previously thought. Although he was still short with Grif (an 'old habit'), he took the task of training and protecting his team seriously. This extended to the Blues on occasion, partly because Church was still learning how to be a proper team leader in his own right. When it came to me, we'd somehow become like father and daughter. His nickname for me was 'Missy.'

Grif came out of the living room and grabbed his jacket that had been hanging on a dining room chair. He moved with obvious hesitance.

"What's the matter?" Sarge asked. "Turd farmer go on vacation? You don't seem excited."

"Frankly, Sir, it's because I'm not."

"Pre-mission jitters?"

"Something like that." Grif shrugged.

Sarge glanced at me. "Star, just so you're informed…"

"She already knows." Tucker put in.

I hesitated, then said, "I was wondering something, actually."

"We're… ah, not supposed to say much," said Sarge slowly.

I blinked in surprise. They hadn't had a mission this secretive before. "I was just curious about how you were going to get to where you're going."

Tucker, Caboose and Grif waited on Sarge to reply. "The teleporter has been reconfigured," he said at last. "It doesn't go straight to Blood Gulch anymore. Cortana and… ah, what's-his-name, Delta, figured out how to route it elsewhere."

"Oh. Am I allowed to know when you're leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning, permitted the snowstorm doesn't arrive earlier than that."

"Okay." I rocked back on my heels." I'll come and see you guys off, then."

At one time I was denied doing such a thing, until I made it clear that if they were going to risk their lives somewhere dangerous I had a right to see them one last time while they were still in one piece. I made the speech directly in the Master Chief's faceplate, too. The long, brutal silence I endured afterwards was worth it. However, I was later advised not to speak to him in that manner ever again.

Cortana told me privately that she liked my spirit, even if Chief wasn't impressed with it.

Grif slipped on his jacket and tugged up the collar so it would tightly cover his neck. He had a distant look in his eyes, like he was already seeing tomorrow's events. I knew Grif was a 'in the moment' kind of guy, preferably when he wasn't doing anything in any given moment.

I walked up to him. "Want a goodnight hug?"

"Huh?" He focused on me.

"You look like you need one."

He opened his arms and I hugged him with a satisfying _thump_. I liked hugging Grif. He was softer than the others for some reason. Behind us, Tucker set the last of the dishes in the drain rack and pulled the stopper out of the sink. "How come I don't get hugs anymore?"

I poked my head around Grif's thick arm. "Grif doesn't pinch my ass."

Tucker smiled with a set of gleaning white teeth and winked. "It's just my way of saying I care, baby."

I groaned and hid in Grif's jacket. His body shook when he laughed and let go. "I could if you wanted me to."

"Don't even _think_ about it."

"Too late!" He said together with Tucker, and they both laughed some more. Sometimes the two of them thought on the same wavelength. It was scary.

Sarge checked his wristwatch. "Let's get moving, Private."

I bounced over to Sarge and gave him a quick hug too. "I'll see you both in the morning."

Cold wind and blown snow rushed through the doorway when Grif opened it and followed Sarge outside. He took a backward glance at the window and smiled. He disappeared into the dark and swirling snow, but his smile was gone before then.

There was another reason why Sarge was hesitant to tell me anything: he knows I worry. A lot. Anybody who has a loved one or friend in the military would worry about them. Only, I knew a total of thirteen soldiers who routinely played with live ammunition for fun. Now they were going on a real, hazardous mission to accomplish who knows what, against who knows how many enemies, for however long it took until they could come home.

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_To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 1

The Mission

A Record

by Starath

**Chapter One**

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I didn't sleep that night.

The following morning I caught the Blood Gulch crew before they left. The coming snowstorm hadn't arrived yet, but the cloud cover was becoming thicker by the minute. I rubbed my gloved hands together, for whatever good it did. The wind tried whipping off my coat hood. I grabbed it. Eight helmets turned in my direction when I rounded the corner and approached them. For a moment, I couldn't help but stop and stare.

When the guys are together, say, in the living room playing Monopoly, there's always laughter and friendly chatter. I had watched them become a family of sorts. After they discovered they could permanently return to Blood Gulch, they had declined to do so, against the Master Chief's wishes. I knew the Chief didn't approve of them living here, in a literally separate reality from their own. But he hadn't been able to persuade them to do otherwise. It was true he had authority over all of them. They didn't acknowledge it. I considered it partly my fault. Maybe they'd gotten too attached to me before the Chief arrived? Once I tried apologizing to him for it, but he wouldn't let me finish.

"I don't blame them for wanting something else to come home to." Master Chief said, and ended the discussion.

Standing before me were two groups of soldiers ready for a fight. The Blues (Church, Tucker, Caboose and Doc) were closest to the teleporter, completely silent. Doc checked the ammunition clip in his rifle and slid it in with a hefty _clack_. He'd joined the Blues to give them an even four members. The Reds (Sarge, Simmons, Grif and Donut) stood ten paces behind the Blues, also waiting in silence. Despite the Chief's advice, they had kept their individually colored Mjolnir armor instead of becoming all blue or red. They didn't know how to visually recognize each other without the colors like Spartans could.

To one side of them were Agents York and Washington. Delta's green hologram illuminated their faceplates. The AI's image hovered around a panel imbedded into the side of the teleporter. I watched him, swallowing. It seemed like a crime to break the quiet, but I had to.

"Hi guys."

A few of them waved at me with their weapons. Others merely nodded.

"Your departure time is in thirty seconds," said Delta to Church.

"Right. Blue Team, sync on my mark…. Mark."

"Synced." They all said together.

"Fifteen seconds. Red Team, your departure is in 1.2 minutes," said Delta.

His announcement jarred me forward to the assembled teams. "Good luck, guys."

"Red Team, sync on my mark!" barked Sarge, "Mark!"

"Synced!" Three voices replied.

"Blue Team, you're a go." Delta announced.

Church glanced at me and led his team through the teleporter. A cold stone settled into my stomach. They'd never neglected to reply before.

"Cycling to secondary entry coordinates." said Delta. "Red Team, you have forty-five seconds."

The team tensed visibly, ready to spring through the teleporter and meet whatever was on the other side.

"Keep safe," I said quietly, then bit my lip. For soldiers that wasn't always possible. "_Win_," I said louder, with all the emphasis I could put in the one word.

Somebody chuckled. Grif flashed me a quick thumbs-up. Maybe he was smiling under that faceplate, but I couldn't know for sure. Their armor wasn't full-fledged Mjolnir armor like Spartans wore, but still, it transformed them into…. something else. Something unstoppable.

I hoped. The cold stone in my stomach rolled over and slid upwards into my throat. Despite what I told anyone, I hated watching them leave, but I was there, regardless.

"Fifteen seconds," reported Delta.

Waving at them would be silly. My mind searched for some other gesture to give them, anything, before they...

"Red Team, you may proceed."

Sarge went first. One by one they disappeared. The winter wind whistled in my ears and yanked off my hood. I balled up my fists, found I couldn't swallow, and unbearable heat surged from my core, into my mouth and face. My breaths became short. Still facing Washington and York I spun around and squeezed my eyes shut, they were _not_ going to watch me cry.

"Uh…." Wash said, stopped, and sighed. He wasn't very good at talking to me. "They'll be alright."

"Indeed," said Delta, obviously trying to be helpful. "We have determined that they have an 87% chance for success."

That wasn't comforting.

"You may retire now D, thanks for your help." said York casually.

"I am pleased to assist. Executing." The green glow reflecting off the snow vanished with the AI's hologram.

In so many ways I was grateful to know everyone from Blood Gulch. For a few reasons I absolutely hated it. My internal temperature soared higher and I held my breath, trying to squash all the emotions that wanted to come out and scream.

_Find the switch,_ I told myself. _Find the switch to turn the emotions off_. I may as well have been looking for the switch in a black hole. Salt water brimmed around the lashes of my eyes, quickly chilling in the winter cold. Why was I acting like this? I have watched them leave before without crying. Why _now?_

I chanced a look at Wash and York. They had hardly moved, but a subtle gesture here and there told me they were communicating on a COM channel without the external speakers on. It was annoying when they did that. I guess they didn't know what to do with me.

That did it. I found the switch and the emotional energy drained away. No sense in making them uncomfortable, after all. I wiped my eyes with the back of my coat sleeve and forced my breathing to normalize.

"Let me know when they come back, please?" Deciding to take the long way around to home, I walked past them and the teleporter.

Evil laughter broke out above us from the roof. "Poor dear, why wait?"

Ordinarily, one would duck and cover when one hears evil laughter but Wash, York and I were used to it. They immediately stepped on either side of me and had their weapons ready to fire.

"Come down from there, O'Malley." snapped Wash.

A black helmet popped into view. Snow scooted off the curved roof and fell in front of us in a cloud of white powder. The cold airborne snow made it hard to breathe. I choked and coughed, unable to see clearly. A huge _thump_ made my knees buckle. O'Malley landed so close to us I could have reached out and touched him. He'd stolen black Mjolnir armor that made him look like Tex at first; until you noticed the red detailing he'd put on his shoulders and helmet.

"Will this do?" He asked with a sneer in his voice.

York pulled me backward. In the same instant, Wash came forward, blocking O'Malley from getting to me. "What do you want?" he demanded.

O'Malley made a gesture of innocence. It might have been innocent, if he hadn't had a sniper rifle in his hands. "Why, I was merely witnessing the sad departure of our comrades off to battle!"

"Bullshit."

He tsked, "Such hostility towards little old me!"

"I wonder why." York said, aiming for O'Malley's visor.

"Don't tell me!" O'Malley laughed, shrugging nonchalantly. "Could it be you think me a threat, you fools?"

"I've found scarier things in my breakfast cereal." said Wash dryly. "Now why don't you be a good wise-ass and drop your weapon."

"Weapon? Oh you mean _this_ weapon!" He hefted the sniper rifle and tilted his head. Wash stepped towards him and pressed the muzzle of his battle rifle into O'Malley's torso.

"Drop it. _Now._"

"'Drop it' you say? Hmm... Okay!" O'Malley reared back and bashed Wash's helmet with the butt of the rifle. The man grunted and went down. I barely had time to squeak before O'Malley grabbed me and hauled me in front of him. Sometime during that movement he'd dropped his sniper rifle and swapped it with Wash's rifle. My back struck his frigid, hollow armor and his gauntleted wrist pressed under my chin. I was forced to look up at York as a result, who had his own weapon trained on us with his finger hovering over the trigger.

O'Malley laughed; a sound that made me shiver. "Oh dearie me Agent York, now what?"

"Release her." He commanded.

Wash started to rise. O'Malley kicked him in the ribs, hard. "Are you sure you want me to?"

York didn't waste further words with the aggressive AI. "Delta, Initiate program Echo-Mike-Papa-seven-three-five."

His green hologram materialized. "It has not been test—"

"Just _do it!_"

I had no idea what he'd just told Delta to do. O'Malley's grip around my chest tightened. He probably didn't know either. I hoped whatever it was worked.

"Initiating."

York's armor shields flared a dazzling blue. Delta's image crackled with visible static and went out. The feeling of a million pinpricks swept through my body. My ears buzzed like someone had stuffed a hundred bees in them. The teleporter behind us crackled angrily. O'Malley staggered, dragging me backward with him before spinning around and shoving me at the teleporter.

"Have a nice tr—"

I heard gunfire—

The teleporter's hum—

Everything became green—

—everything vanished.

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_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 2

The Mission

A Record by Starath

**Chapter 2**

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I fell to the ground and landed off-center. My left foot made a sickening _crunch_ that made me cry out. My hands flew out and struck dirt before my face could.

Dirt?

My vision cleared of bright green and black spots. A tuft of ferns swayed by my nose when I exhaled. Warm sunshine struck my back even though my head was in the shade. I'd already begun to sweat in my winter jacket. I rocked back onto my feet, only to have a sharp pain lanced up from my ankle.

"Ow, fuck!" Luckily my movement had already tipped me onto my behind. I looked up, leaning on my hands... and was face-to-face with a Grunt.

We stared at each other.

Okay, first of all: they smell. _Horribly._ Like someone doused a wet cat in methane gas set on fire, and they're _not_ cute. I had gotten this impression from paying _Halo: Combat Evolved_, partly due to the poor graphics quality my computer gave it. Note to self: Cute in the game, but _not_ cute in real life.

Watery red eyes peered at me. Underneath its breathing mask I heard a loud snuffling sound. It wore orange armor over loose, grey skin that looked like it belonged on an elephant, but had the texture of a crocodile. Spines bristled out of its elbows and knees. Its forearms were relatively small compared to the rest of its limbs. It had a plasma pistol aimed at me, but it didn't seem intent on using it. Maybe it had never seen a human before?

I hardly dared to breathe. It stepped forward and nudged me with its weapon, making a high-pitch squeak that sounded like, "Eh?"

I screamed.

The Grunt jumped and screamed back.

It raised its pistol.

"Oh sh—"

Its head literally exploded.

Fluorescent blue liquid sprayed out and flew down my throat. I gagged. Bits of armor and alien rained down with a hundred squishy _thuds_. My stomach revolted at the sight, smell and taste of the last three seconds. Ignoring my hurt ankle I went on my hands and knees again to heave up what I had for breakfast.

A shadow crossed my back, blocking out the hot sun. An armored boot the color of maroon entered my field of vision. I kept heaving with little control. My body wanted to get rid of the Grunt blood, my breakfast, and the last fifteen meals I had before then.

"Star, are you alright?"

I'm puking my guts out, genius. What do you _think?_

Simmons crouched beside me. "Starath?"

I wanted to breathe. My eyes stung with tears. In a minute, dear, my stomach doesn't know if it's done yet.

"Christine?" Simmons reached to shake my shoulder.

I took in a huge gasp of air.

"Oh my God what the FUCK was that it BLEWUP ew ALIENBLOOD thanks but don't EVERdothatinfrontofmeAGAIN!"

I looked up in time to see his helmet tilt to the side. "You're welcome, but it was either him or you."

"That's beside the point." I shoved away from my steaming pile of puke I'd put in the dead Grunt's lap. "Sorry pal. Aw damn, my coat!"

It was now coated in lovely shades of bright blue and oatmeal brown. I yanked off my gloves and peeled off my jacket. I struggled a bit since I was sitting on it and my left ankle didn't like any movement at all. Simmons pulled it out from under me and tossed it aside. Guess I wouldn't be seeing it again. How would I explain the stains to my mother, anyway?

"Are you hurt?"

"Actually, yes. My ankle's probably strained." Just my luck to decide to wear my loose-fitting winter boots this morning.

"Damn. How'd you get here?"

"O'Malley jumped us. Next thing I knew I was through the teleporter."

"Double damn." He sighed. "Alright. Hang on." Simmons' COM clicked on. "Red-One, this is Red-Two, we have a snag. Copy? No, it's something else, you'd better come see... Affirmative, I'll hold position." His radio clicked off. "Sarge is on his way."

"What's with the numbers?"

"We don't use our names in the field. Sarge is Red-One, I'm Two, Grif is Three, and Donut is Four. If you have to address us, use the numbers, okay?"

I nodded, but stopped when the movement made me dizzy. Even reduced to my shirt and sweatshirt, I was getting hot in the sunlight. I started to pull off the navy-blue sweatshirt.

Simmons shook his head. "Keep it on. Your striped shirt underneath is too easy to see."

Reluctantly I tugged it back on. For the first time I took in my surroundings. We were in a clearing big enough to park a semi truck, surrounded by a dense pine forest. The trees could have come from Earth... If they didn't have those bright purple berries. My chest constricted as I looked overhead. There was no Halo ring. Thank God. I could hear water running somewhere off to our right.

"Where are we?"

"Eclipse-IV, in the Antares system."

"Not on Earth...?"

"A long way from Earth. Even further from the one you know."

The dizziness returned, but it wasn't from throwing up. "Wow."

"Hey," Simmons patted my shoulder. His armor felt heavy and slightly warm. "We'll look after you."

Something rustled the dead pine needles in the woods and Simmons sprang up, rifle raised automatically, making me squeak in surprise. Sarge melted out of the shadows. He stopped in mid-step.

"Son of a corndog," The older man muttered. "What happened here? Any fatally wounded?"

"Just the Grunt, Sir. It must've been a straggler from the pack we encountered earlier, but Star's ankle might be sprained."

Sarge swore, this time without a cute phrase. "Missy, just what the _hell_ are you doing out here?"

"It wasn't my fault!" I flailed helplessly. "O'Malley shoved me through the teleporter and I fell wrong."

"O'Malley?" Sarge growled, his grip tightening on his shotgun. "When I get my hands on him... You were right, Red-Two, this is one helluva snag. Good thing you came back to investigate before we got too far out."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Can't you send me home somehow?" I asked.

"The trip is one-way, Missy." Sarge shook his head.

"Great. Now what?"

"Working on it." Sarge's COM clicked and he stood silent for several moments, his head bobbing occasionally. I frowned at him, I hated it when they didn't let me hear what they were saying.

Well fine, I wasn't going to sit on my ass all day. I struggled to get up, favoring my left ankle. Simmons offered me a hand and let me lean on him. I didn't know him as well as the others, but he was one of the more polite guys from Blood Gulch. Under his armor was a tall, slim man made of flesh and machinery: Simmons 2.0. It took awhile before I got used to seeing the metal plates grafted to his face and arms. What he didn't have in organic body parts he made up for with smarts and a love for technology, which was probably why he was one of the few guys who could sit still long enough to watch the _Transformers_ movies with me.

Sarge's COM clicked again as it turned off. "Alright, listen up you two. We're still en route to NAV point Alpha for the infiltration. Blue-Four is going to meet us out of enemy territory to look at Star's injury. Blue-Four and Red-Four will then depart ranks with Star and carry on to the designated extraction zone for retrieval. We'll… hope for the best after that. Understood?"

"Yes Sir." said Simmons.

"Which one is Blue-Four?" I asked.

"It's Doc's designation." said Sarge.

I wanted to kick myself, but I was standing on the one foot that didn't hurt. Duh. The medic.

"Christine, I want you to listen very carefully," Sarge fixed me with a gaze I could feel even though I couldn't see behind his faceplate. "We're on the fringes of territory completely controlled by the Covenant. I can't tell you why we're here because the less you know, the better. You are extremely vulnerable right now. We're going to do the best we can to protect you. However, if _any_ of us tells you to do something, namely me, or Church, you must do so to the exact _letter_. Do I make myself clear?"

I swallowed. The gravity of the situation came crashing onto my head; I was a liability. Possibly a setback to the entire mission. Sarge hadn't joked or minced words. I suddenly noticed the splatters of blue and purple blood coating his armor. I stared up at him, willing him to say something kind to break the tension. He didn't.

I wanted to cry. This wasn't the man I could laugh with and hug. My vision blurred. I hastily released Simmons' hand and wiped my eyes. I dragged in a shaky breath and dropped my gaze to Sarge's feet. "Yes Sir."

The Red soldiers exhaled at the same time, a little too loudly.

"Can you walk?" Sarge asked.

I tested my left foot with a little bit of weight on it. I yelped and jerked it up. "No."

"Red-Two will carry you, then."

Simmons slapped his battle rifle to his back and scooped me up in the same motion. I was instantly at least four feet off the ground. My arms went around his neck. I could smell metal, alien blood, and hear the tiniest hum of his fake-Mjolnir armor's shields.

"Let's go." said Sarge, smacking his rifle into his palm.

As we moved forward I saw something over Simmons' shoulder and pointed. "Wait, um, Red-One!"

"What is it?" He came up beside us.

I pointed again, "Shouldn't we take that plasma pistol with us? In case, you know, I need a weapon?"

Sarge made a grumbling sound in his throat and glanced at me. "If you want it, you're carrying it."

"I think I can manage that, Sir." When Sarge went to get it, I thought I could hear a muffled chuckle from Simmons.

"Use it well. It's going to be a long ride home." Sarge said coming back, and pressed the weapon into my hand.

It was rather unnerving, how easy it was for Simmons to carry me. I'm not very big, mind you, but I am a young woman in her twenties. Still, the speed at which Simmons kept up with Sarge was dizzying even though they paused and dodged through the trees. Eventually I squeezed my eyes shut when my stomach rolled. I didn't think Simmons would appreciate it if I puked on him. He kept me tucked close to his body and hardly seemed to notice he was carrying a whole person. I might as well have been a sack of potatoes or something.

We suddenly slowed down, then stopped. I cracked open my eyes. Towering pine-like trees bristled overhead completely covering us in shadows and needles. Ahead there was an outcropping of rock that jutted out from a ridge. The ground sloped straight down immediately afterwards. I could see that the trees started to thin on the horizon, possibly opening up into a valley. Water splashed below the rock outcropping. Not much sunlight reached the forest floor, but from my position (higher off the ground than normal), I could see a stream.

Something among the rocks moved. Donut emerged and approached Sarge. His pink armor blended strangely with the shadows and rock behind him. "No enemy contact since you left, Sir." He reported. His chipper voice was clipped by a serious tone I'd never heard from him.

"Good. Red-Two, you can set her down over there with Red-Three."

I blinked. Grif? Where was…? Simmons approached a hollow among the rocks. Something else moved. I squeaked and clung to my ride. He eased me onto a boulder high enough to sit on. When I let go of Simmons, I blinked again. Grif was standing right beside me. How could I have not seen him? His orange armor also did strange things in the shadows like Donut's.

"Uh… Hi. Long time no see," I waved and smiled.

Grif sighed. "I was hoping Sarge was joking. Damn. As if we didn't have enough to worry about."

"_Grif!_" Simmons hissed, and made a chopping motion with his right hand.

"Hey, you just broke the rule too!" he snapped.

They had some other exchange I didn't hear when they turned off their external speakers. I huffed. Have I mentioned how much I hate it when they did that? I hefted the plasma pistol, testing its weight. On the way here I had to hold it in both hands so I couldn't have dropped it. I would have preferred to use a handgun like Sarge had taught me to use, but this could kill aliens too.

A hand brushed my shoulder as Grif hunched down so we could see eye-to-faceplate. "Hey, aside from the ankle, and alien blood," he picked something slimy out of my hair, "Are you alright?"

I nodded.

"Good." He nodded in return and straightened up, "Very good."

Donut immediately crouched where Grif had been. "Hey Star. I'm in charge of looking after you, okay?"

"Yeah. Sar— Red-One told me." Despite the dire situation, I couldn't help smiling. It was hard not to around Donut. He was the youngest out of the Blood Gulch crew, about a year younger than me, and one of the 'smaller' guys too. He was sort of like a big-little brother to me in some ways. Beneath his helmet were twinkling hazel-green eyes and some sort of stylish haircut he always managed to maintain despite being in the military. His happy attitude was infectious, or if you were in the wrong mood for it, downright annoying. Luckily for everyone else he loved to cook, which was a blessing. If I had been in charge of feeding these guys they would have starved within a week of arriving.

"Listen up, men!" barked Sarge, then added, "And ma'am."

The Red soldiers came to attention.

"We're running behind mission time and will have to make up for it. The Blues can only delay so long due to the window of opportunity. We will proceed swiftly and carefully. Red-Two, you take point. Red-Three and I will guard Star. Red-Four, you know what to do."

Donut kneeled and carefully lifted me up. "Uh, apologies, Star."

"Don't worry about it." I didn't _want_ to be carried, but it wasn't like I had a choice. My arms went around his neck like I had done with Simmons. I held my plasma pistol in a death grip.

"Blue-One tells me Covenant patrols are thicker downwind. We will maintain radio silence from here on out. Star, if you have anything to say, tell Red-Four as discreetly as possible."

"Yes Sir."

Sarge slapped his shotgun into his palm. Simmons went ahead and melded into the shadows of the trees. Sarge went next, in front of Donut. Grif took up the rear, walking backwards a few paces before turning around. I wanted to give him a thumbs up, but to do so meant dropping my weapon. We left the rock outcropping and travelled across the ridge with hardly any sound. How could I believe these were the same men who arrived at my doorstop six months earlier?

They had hardly stopped to breathe between ribbing each other for fun, arguing, and chattering about the stupidest things. Now they forged ahead, silent as ghosts, dodging here and there for cover, alert, and ready for a fight. I had to listen hard to even hear their footsteps.

...and was it me, or did I suddenly hear the theme music from _Halo_ playing?

It had to be me.

I pressed my chin against Donut's shoulder guard and shut my eyes. _Finish the fight,_ I told them silently. _Finish the fight so we can all go home_.

I must have dozed off for awhile. I don't know how long we were on the move— maybe fifteen minutes, maybe an hour. Maybe it was exhaustion from everything I'd seen and done, maybe it was from puking my guts out, or maybe it was Donut's consistent, rhythmic strides, the warm weather and the drain after my adrenalin high. The trunks of pine trees blurred together, my mind unable to pick them out separately. At one point I simply stopped seeing them.

Then, far too soon, I was jostled awake.

* * *

_To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 3

The Mission

A Record by Starath

**Chapter Three**

**

* * *

**

"Wake up, Star!" whispered Donut.

I imagine he thought he was shaking me gently, but my brain rattling in my skull thought differently. I jerked, alert as I could be while my mind was still full of fuzz. My chin hurt too. I could see it reflected in Donut's faceplate, and the imprint his armor made in my skin. That looked wonderful.

"I'm up," I croaked. I blinked several times, urging the hamster living in my head to start running on its little wheel. There was more sunlight overhead. The tree canopy had thinned considerably and—

I gasped and clung to Donut. In front of us was a sheer drop of… What, one hundred feet? More? I couldn't tell because it was just too far down. At the bottom I could see Simmons and Grif waiting next to a thick black rope. The rope slipped into a smooth path up the rock face. A dried-up waterfall? Maybe, from where I was it looked like Simmons and Grif stood in an empty riverbed.

Grif continuously swept the area with his weapon while Simmons waved at us, the silent signal for "Come on down!"

Yeah right.

"How-?" I started to ask. Donut carefully released my legs and my boots touched the ground, I couldn't help gasping when my left foot jolted with pain. He crouched in front of me, perilously close to the edge of the drop.

"Hop on," he said in a hushed tone. "Sarge will help if you need it."

Sarge was a few feet away. His body language was tense, even with the armor and he kept his gaze fixed straight ahead. I bet he didn't like the cliff edge either, having once admitted he was 'allergic to heights.'

I examined Donut. Right, it would be just like getting a piggy-back ride… down a mountain… Thinking about it made it worse so I clambered onto Donut's back, biting my lip whenever my left ankle touched anything— including Donut's hand when he grabbed it.

"OW! Sonuvabitch!"

"Sorry!" he said.

I really, _really_ wanted to cry. Instead I slapped the back of his helmet and made myself comfy. My arms went around his neck and crossed at his throat. Donut glanced back at me. "Hang on."

No, Really? I was going to let go as soon as he-

He stood up, grabbed the rope and slid down so fast my stomach tried crawling into my throat. We hit the ground with a _thump_ that made my teeth snap together. I tasted blood. Donut backed away from the rope and let me slip down and off his back. I hobbled upright and tested the side of my cheek with my tongue. Raw flesh stung on contact and I spit out some blood.

"You alright?" asked Donut.

I spit again, this time to get the taste of puke out of my mouth. "Yeah."

Another heavy _thump_ nearly made me fall, Sarge heaved a huge sigh and looked over his team, slapping his shotgun into his palm. Donut promptly scooped me up again. Simmons went ahead in front with Sarge and Grif guarded Donut and I. This time we moved slowly, deliberately, one tree at a time through the thinning forest. The ground continued to slope downward at a steep angle that didn't level out anytime soon. Loose sand and dead pine needles slid free whenever the Reds took a step. I marveled at their balance. The slope was deeper than the ones I routinely walked on back home, and those were treacherous. Donut hardly wavered at all.

Simmons halted and everybody stopped. He raised his hand, held it horizontally and made a sweeping motion. Only the trees moved in the wind and….

A small avalanche of sand and pine needles hissed down the hill, parallel to the path we'd been walking in. I didn't breathe until Sarge came forward. He gestured to his team, pointing at Simmons first, Grif second, then Donut, and himself, indicating a straight line down. Everyone moved into position and continued with great care. Now the avalanche we made was smaller and coming from only one place. Donut slipped once but Sarge's hand thumped onto his shoulder and kept him upright. I gulped and hugged Donut tighter, his fingers brushed my ribs and tapped twice for 'O-K.'

I loosened my grip just a little and smiled, maybe this wouldn't be _so_ bad. I was surrounded by strong, capable friends who knew how to take care of themselves on the battlefield. I was safe with them. Soon enough we'd meet up with Doc somewhere safe, then I'd go with him and Donut to their extraction zone. They would succeed in their mission and we'll all go home, celebrate, and goof off.

Right?

The trees thinned out even more, and alien shrubbery started to take over the land. In the distance I could see the valley floor, covered in ferns and taller plant life. Wait. There was more than that. Plants didn't move, and they weren't made of orange, blue or purple either. Or maybe they were? I wasn't on Earth anymore. I squinted to make out the shapes clearly. On the fringes of the taller 'plants' something turned. it stood on clawed feet and had a head made of three prongs…

The familiar shape bothered me. My mind went sifting through similar shapes I knew of, trying to make a match. A bit of blue light shimmered above the thing's clawed feet. It turned again. My mind blipped through a list of possible matches, and flashed red when it found what I was seeing.

A Covenant Shade turret.

There were no plants behind it and closer to the ground, scurrying about in packs were Grunts. Standing above them were Elites. Here and there were the green shields worn by Jackals. Further out there was a battered structure I could barely identify. Hunched round figures guarded it on all sides. Hunters? And… I picked out massive blobs of pink-purple armor: Wraith tanks.

"Holy shit…"

Donut tapped me, breaking my gaze from the horrible sight. He gave the slightest shake of his head. I started to say something more but shut my mouth in mid-breath. Okay, fine. I knew I wasn't supposed to _say_ anything, but what could he expect? I just saw a nice piece of hell. The same hell my friends were risking their lives to infiltrate. If I had the power I would have stopped them all. No. No way. No way were they going in _there!_

We were too far down the slope for me to see any more. What was the Covenant guarding? Was it something they built? Did they capture it? Were there humans inside? What did my friends need to do? Destroy it? Recapture it? Save anyone? What if they couldn't? What if something went wrong? All those enemy soldiers…. Counting Blue Team, they _had _to be outnumbered fifty-to-one, or maybe more! Did O'Malley know about this when he sent me through the teleporter? Did he want me to die here? Why? My stomach clenched up. My heart thudded against my chest like a jackhammer. _Was_ I going to die here? Just why the fucking hell _was_ I here?

I whimpered and didn't want to cry. I cried quietly anyway. Donut tapped me again twice: 'O-K?' I shook my head no, not okay. I wanted to hide my face in his neck. He adjusted his grip so we were chest-to-chest. I didn't care that his armor was hard and lumpy. I cried some more. Over his shoulder I saw Sarge pause in scanning our perimeter to look at me. He rapped a knuckle under his chin, something he always did when he told me, "Buck up, Missy."

I sucked air in and tried to stop crying. Crying did nothing, it wasn't going to get us out of this place or this task. Crying wasn't going to make all of those aliens go away. Crying wasn't—

The gentle whirr of an engine drifted overhead and the Reds froze. The whirr became louder and was accompanied by a low-pitched, extended cry like a screaming hawk. The Reds tilted their weapons skyward. I searched for it too: the Banshee. They slowly backed into the tree line where the shadows overlapped. Far to the left the Banshee came into view and turned in a lazy curve toward us. The Reds took defensive posture, each one tracking the Covenant craft with his weapon, and Donut tucked me closer to his body.

The Banshee passed by. Its engine noise hurt my ears until it gradually faded away. No one moved. I exhaled when I realized I was holding my breath. Lucky this time, but for how long? How were we going to rendezvous with Doc if the Covenant had flight patrols? _Where_ were we going to meet him? Where was he? Did he have to maneuver through that mess of alien life forms in the valley? Poor Doc! He wasn't _really _a soldier, he was a self-proclaimed pacifist. Could he fight if he had to? Could he kill? Could he—

Grif suddenly moved to the side and waved with his battle rifle. Donut loosened his hold and crouched, setting me on soft sand and pine needles. I frowned. Why...?

Doc crouched beside me. I squeaked in alarm and threw a handful of sand at him, "Don't DO that!"

He brushed the dirt off his faceplate and bobbed his head like he was saying something.

"What?"

Something went _click_. "Sorry, had my external speakers off."

So they'd been talking to each other without letting me know about it. I set irritation aside, recognizing that they could be forgiven due to the current situation. It was hard to stay mad at Doc anyway. Since he and O'Malley parted ways his personality showed to be a quiet, genuinely kind man who looked after others before he cared about his own health. He was relatively mellow and preferred to avoid competition at all costs. Luckily he learned to drop that trait at the supper table— if you didn't get there first, there might not be anything left for you to eat.

"Blue-One sends his regards," Doc said, "And Blue-Three sends hugs."

I giggled, Blue-Three must be Caboose. "Do I want to know what Blue-Two sends?"

"Not really." He coughed. "Which ankle is injured?"

"The left."

He kneeled and sat back on his heels. "I want you to put your leg up here." He patted his thigh. "I'll be as gentle as I can."

I did as he instructed and averted my eyes. If I saw _anything_ even remotely wrong with the human body, my stomach mutinied and gave up its last meal. The mere thought of what my ankle must look like did nearly the same thing. My boot came off and I felt my sock move. I sifted sand through my fingers, fighting the urge to cringe. I glanced around, Sarge, Grif and Simmons had established a perimeter around us and constantly swept the area with their weapons.

"Hmm… this isn't too bad." Doc manipulated my leg with such delicacy I could have forgotten he was wearing a hundred pounds of armor, "A light sprain, you should be fine within two weeks."

Provided I lived that long.

I heard something metal creak open. Doc dug around in a small box painted the same color as his armor. He pulled out a bundled strip of cloth and a can. He unraveled the cloth and tore off a piece as long as his arm. He shook the can and coated half of the cloth in yellow-green foam, rubbing it in until the foam disappeared into the material. "This is going to be cold," he said.

I looked away again and gasped at the shock of the ice-cold cloth touching my skin. I tried to jerk my foot away but he restrained it and my ankle protested. "OW!"

"Sorry Star, I'll be done in a second." He wrapped the cloth around firmly and knotted it in place. "The biofoam will help speed your recovery." He replaced the sock and boot. "Don't try to walk on that if at all possible. Ideally not for three days at least."

I seriously felt like saying something sarcastic, but bit my tongue. He was just doing his job as the medic. I pulled my foot back and gingerly let it rest in the sand. "Thanks."

"Not a problem." He noticed the plasma pistol I had tucked in my lap. "Ah, that reminds me." He snapped the lid to the metal box shut and slipped it onto a clip behind his hip. "Blue-Three also sends a present."

"Really?"

Doc unhooked something from his waist and handed it to me. It looked like a giant wristwatch. The band was stretchy and had bits of skin stuck to it on the inside. I picked it out, wrinkling my nose. "It's a Jackal personal shield generator. He thought you might need it."

I slipped the band onto my left arm, over my sweatshirt, and pushed it up as far as I could before the band would stay in place. The Jackal's wrist must have been as big as my left bicep. Not a comforting thought. Sarge approached us.

"Are things shipshape?"

Doc stood, helping me up at the same time. I grabbed my plasma pistol and moved my arm, examining the shield generator. There was a tiny button on the side.

"Yes Sir." said Doc.

I tested my ankle by putting a little weight on it. It still complained but at least it didn't swear profusely. Lifting my foot, I rested it against the back of my right leg and leaned on Doc. "I'm ready to rock, Sir."

He chuckled. "Glad to hear it. Now—" Sarge was cut off by a low hawk's-scream that broke out directly above us.

"Incooooming!" cried Simmons, pointing his rifle to the sky.

* * *

_To be continued…_


	5. Chapter 4

The Mission

A Record

By Starath

**Chapter 4**

**

* * *

**

Blue plasma flashed down through the trees and blasted a path several feet from where we were standing. The ground exploded and showered burnt debris everywhere. As the pine trees ignited and crackled I was thrown to the ground and covered by a heavy object. I tried to get up but was forced back down.

"Stay down!" yelled Doc by my ear. The Banshee let out another scream. Gunfire exploded on all sides as burning wood and resin filled my nostrils.

"They can't take that out with their rifles!" I shouted.

Doc grunted, "I know. Grif, trade you!"

An orange armored boot nearly stepped on my hand. I felt Doc move, and immediately another weight pinned me gently down. I managed to lift my head and wiggle so I could see. Grif's hand came around to shield my face but I pushed it away. "What's Doc doing?"

The medic marched straight for a gap in the trees. Grif shook his head. "I have no idea, but I think he's nuts."

"Doc! Get back here on the DOUBLE!" barked Sarge. Doc strode forward and didn't give any indication that he'd heard. Ahead, the Banshee wheeled around and came at him. "_NOW, SOLDIER!_"

He stopped and pulled a weapon off his back that I hadn't noticed before— a rocket launcher. He tilted his head into the scope. The Banshee fired its fuel rod cannon and missed on purpose, yet Doc didn't move.

"Oh Lord…" I muttered.

The Banshee swooped in barely thirty feet off the ground. Through Grif's open COM I heard Doc shout. "That's right you fool, _come and get it!_"

Exhaust billowed out the back of the weapon as an eighteen-inch-long rocket hissed out of the barrel. The rocket hit the Banshee's nose and detonated. The Covenant craft leaned hard to the right. Doc fired again and the rocket struck the Banshee's right side, forcing it into the ground. Doc easily jumped to the side as it slid past and swapped his rocket launcher for a battle rifle. Leaping behind the craft he emptied an entire clip into the Banshee's cockpit. He slapped more ammo into the weapon and paused.

Nothing moved.

Doc kicked a bleeding, lifeless foot. "Yeah, that's what I thought bastard."

Grif and I said, "Holy shit!" at the same time and looked at each other, then at Doc. Simmons, Sarge and Donut came out of cover and just stared.

Doc checked his rocket launcher and snorted. "Two rounds gone. Oh well."

Grif rolled off me and offered a hand up. I took it, and came up faster than expected and embraced him in a clumsy hug to keep from falling. He let go first with a, "Sorry."

Doc must have realized we were all staring at him. "Is something wrong, guys?"

"Ah…." Sarge audibly swallowed and asked what we were thinking: "How much of O'Malley stayed with you, son?"

Doc shrugged as he shouldered the rocket launcher, "Enough to be useful."

"Damn," said Grif, shaking his head, "Just, _damn._" I shared his sentiments completely. Grif nudged my mouth shut with his forefinger, and I swatted him playfully. "Your jaw's probably hanging loose too."

"Yeah, but no one can see how silly it looks under my helmet."

That made me giggle. The smoldering Banshee let loose a spray of blue sparks. I slipped my hand into Grif's. "Help me walk over there."

He held me back when I took a step forward. "Star, it's not something—"

"I want to see this."

Grif stayed put and glanced at Sarge. His commanding officer shook his head. "It's not pretty, Missy. And it'll smell bad."

"I don't care. I want to see what you're fighting." I wanted to _see_ what Doc brought down by himself. Doc, out of all of them! If he could do that…

Simmons was already at the back of the craft. His head poked into view. "You did a good job, Blue-Four. I didn't know you had it in you."

Doc scratched his helmet, "Neither did I."

"This isn't the time for sight-seeing," snapped Sarge. "We've gotta get a move on!"

I huffed and let go of Grif. I hobbled toward the Banshee, painfully, and managed to get halfway there before I fell. Someone grabbed my arm. Grif helped me stand upright and together we walked to the Banshee. Another fountain of sparks spewed out. He quickly sidestepped to block it from touching me, but a tiny shard of molten metal landed on my sweatshirt sleeve and burrowed straight through to my skin in a microsecond.

"OW! Damn!"

"Fuck, I knew it— Star, are you hurt?"

"No." I shook my arm and inspected the hole burned into my sweatshirt. "It was like a spark from a welder. I'm fine."

"Maybe we should have Doc look at it. You can't be too careful, you know."

"Grif," I closed my eyes, gritted my teeth and checked my temper. "You're _always _too careful. It's one of your best traits. It's one of your worst."

"Hey, avoiding danger helps in my survival. I can't be careful enough with my health on the line."

For whatever good that did in our current situation! I jerked myself away from him and poked the armor plating covering his stomach. "You're a soldier," I snapped. "Even I know the mission and your _teammates_ come first, always, and your health? That's why you eat junk food and smoke, right?"

He became absolutely still. Oh, so I hit a nerve did I? Fine! I hurt, I was dehydrated and hungry, I was tired, and I was in the middle of a military operation no sane person should be involved in. Grif routinely put his paranoia and consistent laziness at the front of everything. That just was _not_ going to cut it here.

"Ooo, _burn_." Donut muttered off to the side. Simmons reached over and smacked the back of his helmet with an loud _crack_.

My hand brushed the Banshee's hull; its metal was cool, smooth, and full of tiny indentations smaller than the pads of my fingers. My foot bumped into something hard. A blue object the size of a tennis ball rolled away. Leaning on the Banshee I picked it up and held it out for the others to see.

"A plasma grenade," said Doc. "Best let me take that."

Reluctantly I handed it over and limped to the back of the craft. Sarge was right, it did smell bad and the back end of an Elite riddled with bullet holes just… wasn't pretty. I forced myself to look regardless. This was the enemy, the Elite's brethren awaited my friends in the valley ahead, ready to tear them apart and blow them up and—

I swallowed. No, Grif wasn't the only one who had paranoia. My ankle throbbed as I pivoted on my right foot to turn around and face the Red Team. Grif hadn't moved from where I left him. They all watched me, obviously impatient but curious. "Doc, it's amazing you did this."

"I suppose…. I just did what I had to do to protect everyone." He shrugged.

"You couldn't have done this if you stayed in Blood Gulch." I continued.

His helmet tilted. "True."

"My point is," I addressed them all, fighting off pain that made me nearly scream, "If he could do this… what can the rest of you do?"

Sarge shouldered his shotgun. "We aim to kick _serious ass_, that's what!" Everyone nodded in agreement. Smoke drifted around us, obscuring my vision. I coughed. Was the Banshee still smoldering? My eyes watered. No, this wasn't burning metal and circuitry. This was—

The pine forest blazed with fire.

The trees were candles lit on top, burning downwards along their trunks. Flames hopped from tree to tree like happy squirrels running in a game of tag. The fire eagerly consumed dry needles, berries and bark at a rampant pace. It reached the ground and ignited the dead pine needles. Trees groaned and leaned at wayward angles, their trunks ablaze. Chunks of ash fluttered down, white and still orange around the edges.

"Oh my G—" I gagged on the stench of burning pine needles.

A tree fell, moaning, and struck its neighbors on the way down.

"_Move it men!_" cried Sarge. Simmons leapt out of harm's way but Donut wasn't fast enough. Two trees came down at him and he tried to dodge them, but the trunks penned him in. A third crashed on top of him.

"DONUT!" Simmons bounded onto the pile first.

"Hang on son!" Sarge joined him and together they lifted the huge pine trunk. Doc rushed in and grabbed Donut's arm. He dragged the Red soldier out from the burning mess. Donut's limbs snagged in the tree branches. Cursing, Doc tried to yank him free.

"Oh my God, oh my God!" I bounced in place, my ankle jolted, and in tears I turned to Grif. "Go help them!"

"Why should I?" His tone was deadpan. "I'm not a real soldier. Besides, I'm guarding _you._"

"_What?_" I shrieked. "Of course you are! Forget me! They need your help!"

Doc untangled Donut and threw him over his shoulders. Sarge and Simmons released the tree trunk. They jumped away in time to avoid a shower of sparks the burning wood spat at them. Doc deposited Donut's smoking body in the sand beside us. His pink armor had become black with soot. "Talk to me, kid! Are you in there?"

Donut's legs twitched and he attempted to sit up, but the medic pressed him down. Donut settled for holding his helmet in both hands. "Anyone get the registry number of that Pelican?"

"Are you injured?"

"Don't think so…." He took in a breath, deep enough for his armor to move. "Ah! Okay, that hurt."

"How much?"

"Well Doc, on a scale from one to ten… Twelve."

"Shit."

"I agree!"

So did I, what if Donut was badly hurt? Bleeding internally? Broken bones?

Sarge hovered over them. "Can he be moved?"

"Depends on what's injured." Doc passed a glowing tool over Donut that could have been a pen light for all I knew.

A low hawk's-scream cut through the air, and then two. Grif's helmet snapped skywards. "Looks like he's gonna need to move whether we like it or not!"

Two Banshees were closing in on our position.

"Son of a shuttlecock!" Sarge started snapping orders. "Red-Three, grab Star, Red-Two, grab Red-Four. You got any more of those magic rockets, Blue-Four?"

"Just two."

"One for each Banshee then! Damn forest fire's a good enough signal flare to these scum, we don't need anything else giving them Intel! We move forward men; it's the only way to go!"

I grabbed my plasma pistol a split-second before Grif had me in his arms.

Donut protested when Simmons went to pick him up. "My legs are fine!" He stood on his own, took three steps, and staggered. "But my chest—"

"Easy, I got you." Simmons threw an arm around his shoulder. "Like the three-legged race back home."

Home. I wanted _home_. I wanted my bed. I wanted my fluffy dog. I wanted a fucking chocolate chip cookie! Rolling slightly against Grif's chest I hid my face against his neck. Over his shoulder I could see Doc taking aim with his rocket launcher. The first projectile struck home. The unlucky Banshee lost its right fuselage and screamed into a nosedive. It burned with the fallen pine trees.

The second Banshee wheeled portside and Doc's last rocket sped harmlessly under the craft's belly. As it fired its fuel rod cannon Doc abandoned the rocket launcher to throw himself into a tumble to dodge the plasma weapon. Sarge's shotgun boomed.

_POW! POW! POW!_

The Elite pilot inside probably laughed. Doc joined Simmons and Donut where they took cover in a low bush that hadn't been set on fire yet. The Banshee brazenly ripped overhead and flew off, seeking distance before it came around for another pass. I whimpered. The sound was strange and pathetic in my ears. Did I really sound like _that_?

"We're going to make it," whispered Grif.

"Are we?" I asked in a tiny voice.

He exhaled loud enough for me to hear it through his external speakers. Maybe he hadn't been talking to me? "Yes," he said.

"Sir! Any ideas on how to bring it down?" called Simmons.

Sarge crouched near Grif, muttering. "A goddamn miracle ought to do it."

The Banshee had turned about but was too far away for us to do anything about it right this moment. Or was it? "Donut!" I called. "How's the throwing arm?"

"Uh…" He tested it, cursed, and looked back at me. "It'll do!"

"Use my plasma grenade!"

"Sir?" Donut asked his team leader.

"DO IT!"

Doc gave him the grenade. Donut stood and didn't waver when the plasma bolts came down. Apparently this Elite liked to play with prey too, or it was just a really lousy shot. The grenade lit up a bright blue in Donut's palm and he leaned back. "Here, Ugly," he shouted, "_Catch!_"

The plasma grenade streaked through the air like a miniature comet. It whizzed at the Banshee so fast it struck the craft's hull with an audible _thunk_ we all heard. It detonated three seconds later and the Banshee wobbled.

"Hell yeah!" Donut pumped his fist. "Major league arm hasn't failed me yet!"

"Bring 'er down, men!" commanded Sarge. "FIRE!"

Already flying erratically and sparking, the Banshee put up a poor fight to four battle rifles and a shotgun blowing its fuselage to pieces. In a last-ditch effort, the pilot let its craft hit the ground and skid toward us.

I yelped when Grif jumped up and took me with him. "Time to go!"

Doc, Donut and Simmons ducked before the Banshee could mow them over. Sarge and Grif fled to the side, out of its path.

Grif tripped.

He twisted himself in mid-fall so he would land first, on his back. The Banshee kept coming. I screamed and hugged him so hard it hurt. The round purple head of the craft ground across the sand and brushes, flattening everything. I squeezed my eyes shut. So this was it. I was going to be road kill on an alien's grill. I'll never see my Mom or Dad or brother or dog or friends again and I had things I still wanted to do, like write a book and travel and laugh and marry andand—

"Star, it's okay." said Grif.

How the HELL was it okay? I whined and kept hugging him. I liked him anyway, flaws and all.

"You can look."

Face death head on? Fine. I could do that. Really. I looked through my eyelashes. The fat nose of the Banshee loomed huge in my face. It had stopped short of running us over. I wheezed. "Holy… Oh my…. We…. Oh my God… I'm not…"

Grif grunted. "Star, could you get off me for a sec?" Hesitantly I left his safe embrace and crawled off him. I plopped down into the sand and watched him, quickly realizing the reason for his request. He grumbled nonsense words and yanked his leg out from under the Banshee. "That's better."

I still wheezed with no control. We were going to die, but didn't, how could that be? Just dumb fucking luck? My sweaty hands dropped my plasma pistol. I wringed them in the dirt. Tears created dark spots in the sand. Okay, enough. I wanted home, NOW.

"You lucky bastard, Grif." I heard Simmons say. He came from behind the Banshee with Donut. Doc appeared from the other side.

"Huh?"

Simmons patted the Banshee. "If we hadn't grabbed it you would have had your fat ass run over."

"Hey, I'm trim and buff now, thank you very much. And I wasn't just running for my health, you know."

Doc kneeled beside me and rubbed my back. "You're okay. Breathe with me, okay? In through the mouth, out through the nose—"

"I want… To… fucking… _GO HOME!"_ I screeched. Doc flinched and rocked back on his heels. I threw off his hand. "This is INSANE! It's not 'okay' or 'fine' or some cock-eyed dream or-or-or ANYTHING! I don't belong here! I've had enough! I'm tired, I'm hungry, I HURT, I've seen dead aliens—"

Somebody else crouched in front of me. "That's quite enough, Missy!"

"Go to _hell_, Sarge! SIR!"

"Now you listen here!" he thundered, "This ain't no time for water works or screamin' your pretty pink lungs out! You wanna go home? That's just fine and dandy, but there ISN'T a way 'home' unless we get this show on the road. We are here, right now, doing our DUTY to defend our planet against aliens who'd sooner see us split on a barbecue than dead! But that ain't gonna happen, coz' we've got a job to do, and we need _everybody_ here to buck up, shut up, and do what needs to be done!"

"I don't want to be here," I gasped.

"Do you think any of us _want_ to be here?"

I choked. Coughed. I wiped snot off my face and made an awful mess of it with the sand sticking to my fingers. I listened to the sliding sand as it trickled onto the ground, trying to breathe properly. A hand covered in a black and red gauntlet came into my blurred field of vision.

"Are you with us or not?" Sarge asked gently.

That started a fresh bought of crying. I didn't want… but here I was… there was nothing… but I had… This wasn't fair, but he was right… No home… no nothing… just war… until… until…we win. I tried cleaning my right hand on my jeans. I clasped Sarge's offered hand, practically twice the size of mine. "Of…course. 'Til… it's finished. Count on it."

We shook and he ruffled my hair before standing. "That's what I like to hear. Blue-Four, tend to Red-Four. We're moving ASAP, and I mean ten minutes ago."

"Right, Sir." Doc left my side. I stared at the wet sand and wanted to curl up in it to sleep. Forever.

"I fucking hate it when Sarge is right," muttered Grif.

A strangled giggle bubbled out of my throat. I pushed my hair to the side so I could see him. I rubbed some sandy grit off my cheek. "He knows what he's talking about sometimes."

"More often than I'll admit." He sighed. "Star, the truth is I don't _feel_ like a soldier. I was drafted, you know? So I resolved to do nothing important. Blood Gulch was a great gig. I got out of everything because there wasn't anything worth doing that I couldn't talk Simmons or Donut into doing for me. Sarge couldn't stop me from doing otherwise. His authority didn't even matter to me. We were nobodies no one cared about. Then Master Chief shows up out of nowhere, trains us, puts us into active service, and here I am wondering how the hell I got here."

"You're like me, Grif. You think too much."

"Probably. There's one thing I know for sure."

"What's that?"

He hesitated, then looked at me. "By the end of this, I want to _be_ a soldier."

* * *

_To be continued…_


	6. Chapter 5

The Mission

A Record

by Starath

**Chapter Five**

**

* * *

**

I don't remember much of what happened after that conversation. Sarge's original plan to get me to safety was scrubbed. The Covenant knew we were here now and had already mobilized to take us out. With Donut injured and Doc out of rockets, they couldn't risk separating from the Red Team and getting caught by the Covenant with me in between them. Sarge told me that I'd go to Blue Team once we got inside the perimeter they'd set up to cover Red Team's infiltration. I didn't ask what they were infiltrating because it was already clear: the structure guarded by the Covenant had to be their target. It became harder to move about the deeper we went in.

Packs of Grunts scurried everywhere. Elites in camouflage walked past our hiding places only feet away. We edged around the shadowed sides of the valley— Doc carried me— and headed for the structure from the back side. The Covenant couldn't cover it as thoroughly because of the steep ground. Three Shade turrets perched dangerously on ledges that had obviously been dug into the hillside. A pair of Hunters defended the structure's flanks. The Wraith tanks were gathered at the front, thankfully, but they hovered, their cannon turrets swiveling restlessly from side to side.

The structure was human-made, possibly out of concrete for all I knew, and backed against the hillside like a top-secret military bunker. It had a tower rising from its middle with a giant satellite dish sitting on top. The windows were still intact, and aside from a few scorch marks on its walls the building looked untouched. I wanted to ask Doc what they were after in there but nobody had communicated vocally for over an hour. Despite the intensity of the situation, I fought the urge to sleep. Luckily for me, the constant flow of adrenaline in my system eventually did more than enough for my state of alertness. If it got any higher I was sure to achieve flight just by flapping my arms really hard.

Where was Blue Team? Between watching out for Covenant and watching the guys for directions I tried looking for them.

Nothing.

We had to have been inside their perimeter by now. Maybe they were positioned high up, where their blue armors matched the sky? Tucker had been trained on the sniper rifle along with Church. I heard Church's aim was better. He insisted he has a sniper rifle that actually works properly now. Which member of the Blues would I be placed with? Hopefully it was Caboose. I'm sure the situation made Tucker more serious, but the guy loved saying 'Bow chicka bow wow' far too much.

We had almost no cover. The shadows and random pockets in the ground had to suffice. Every once and awhile there'd be a boulder big enough to crouch behind. Despite my sprained ankle I crawled on my belly with the guys, and yeah, it hurt. It was either that or be spotted and destroyed in twenty seconds or less. Doc tapped my shoulder. He pointed up at our 2 o'clock position. At first I didn't see anything but shadow.

A darker shadow moved.

I blinked, rubbed my eyes and the bulky shape of Mjolnir armor came into focus. The faceplate reflected a tiny bit of light onto the helmet's visor. It was... dark blue? Caboose? He was tucked into a depression in the hillside. Wow, they let him be out here by himself?

Doc tapped me again and motioned upwards. I judged the distance between us and Caboose. Um... Yeah, no? That was too far up for me to go on my own. I shook my head. He nodded and motioned upward. Crap. The Reds had already moved on toward the heavily guarded building. I swallowed as Doc sat up and made several gestures in Caboose's direction. Caboose's helmet bobbed once. Doc directed my attention to a rough trail in the hillside, probably the way Caboose had climbed up to his spot.

Right.

Couldn't I just go back somewhere to wait for the Pelican?

As I scooted forward my sprained ankle bumped a chunk of rock. The string of profanities I _wanted_ to scream out would have made Church proud. Instead I bit my lip and whined and whined and _whined_, it hurt so bad. I probably sounded like a wounded animal. Where the hell were some painkillers when I needed them? Okay, okay, okay. If I get up there, I'll be safe with Caboose. I grabbed the next hand-hold and it broke free in my hand. The rock slipped and went tumbling down the hillside as other debris followed it down. Doc pressed his palm into my back, the signal for 'stay put.' The rockslide gathered momentum and pooled at the valley floor. I heard every collision it made. It stopped.

_Clank-clank-clank._

That sound made me stiffen, and flatten even lower, which was hardly possible. I took a cautious glance down.

_Clank-clank-clank._

The Hunter below left its post and shuffled to the hillside. It resembled a dinosaur with all its armor and spikes, and it carried a huge fuel-rod cannon. Supposedly the alien was actually made of a colony of orange worms. Worms were still deadly when they carried a big gun. What were we going to do? What if it saw us? What if it saw Caboose? He was more important to the mission than we were.

I rested my cheek on the stone and waited.

_Clank-clank-clank. Clank-clank-clank._

The Hunter took its sweet time examining the rockslide. Good thing Simmons had insisted I kept my navy sweatshirt. My green/blue/white striped shirt would have been easy to spot, even in this deep shadow.

_Clank-clank-clank._

Why couldn't it just go back to its post? _It's just a bunch of stones and dirt,_ I wanted to tell it, _nothing to see here!_ I shifted my weight to get off my knees where the rock was digging into my flesh. I braced my right foot on a nearby boulder so I could get more comfortable. Doc grabbed my leg and stilled it. Why? It's not like—

The boulder came free and rolled downhill.

"Shit!"

I didn't have to see it. I _know_ the Hunter looked up. Above, Caboose uttered a colorful phrase he probably learned from Church. Then, several things happened all at once.

The hillside lit up green as a fuel-rod blast arched upwards. It missed, falling miserably short of our position. The ground vibrated from the impact. A nearby Shade turret turned in our direction, and purple plasma splashed across the rock, banishing our precious shadows. Another fuel-rod shot crashed below, far closer now.

Doc shoved me forward and up, "MOVE!"

The Grunt sitting at the turret continued to light up the area so the Hunter could aim properly. Rock exploded and showered us with gravel. I climbed as fast as I could, over every obstacle. I reached for the next handhold—

The ground wasn't there.

"Keep moving!" shouted Doc.

"I can't! There's nowhere to go!"

"What?" Another explosion. Plasma landed close enough for me to feel the scorching heat on my face. The hillside rumbled. Aided by the plasma's light, we could see a jagged split in the rock face large enough for a person to crawl into.

Doc must have thought the same thing because he said, "Get inside!"

"How—"

"Just GO!" He knocked some stone loose and guided me through, protecting the opening with his back to the firing plasma. I turned in time to see his faceplate before it left. "Stay there!"

"But—"

A plume of rocket exhaust streaked through the air. They let Caboose have a rocket launcher too? …I guess so long as he knew how to use it, who cares?

I backed away from the opening, plugging my ears to block out the piercing effect of a BR55 battle rifle letting bullets fly full blast. A muffled _BOOM_ from a thrown grenade made my little cave shake. Between bursts of plasma I searched for a safer position to hide in. The cave widened the further back I went and I saw a dark gap in the cave wall.

Then, for the second time that day, everything became green. The detonation made my ears ring. Rocks fell. Dust filled the tight space.

Everything went black.

* * *

The heavy pounding in my head woke me up. At first I thought I hadn't really opened my eyes because I could see absolutely nothing. Gradually my vision adjusted, yet I still couldn't see much…. Just shapes barely visible in the pitch dark. Wait.

There was something... the plasma pistol tied to my belt loops emitted the tiniest bit of green light. On one hand it was helpful. On the other, I was getting sick of seeing green things. They kept showing up whenever something went horribly wrong. Gingerly I touched the back of my head and found a lump that was slightly damp.

Oh God... Blood?

I couldn't tell; I needed more light. Remembering the Jackal shield Doc had given me, I fumbled in the dark to turn it on. I found the button, pushed it and the shield flared to life, nearly blinding me. Blue light banished all shadows to the deepest crevasses.

Yes, it was blood, but it had dried while I was unconscious. A rock with a dark blotch sat a foot away. So I'd been knocked out, how fun. Ignoring my throbbing head as best I could, I lifted the shield to direct its illumination forward. The crack Doc pushed me through was completely blocked.

"Well that's just fuckin' Prime…"

Irritation traded places with panic far too quickly. Was I trapped? Was the air going to run out? Were they looking for me? Had Caboose and Doc been killed by the Covenant? I struggled to stand and hobbled to the blockage.

"Can anyone hear me?" I cried, "Doc? Caboose? ...anyone?"

My pleas were answered only by echoes and the pounding in my head.

Wait, echoes? Where…?

I turned around. That's right. I had noticed an opening in the cave wall earlier. I went to it, turning my shield sideways so it would fit through. Another cave yawned like a giant mouth gaping at me. Alright. So did I sit and wait for help, or—

At the blockage, rock shifted. Yes! Maybe they had heard me!

"Guys! I'm here! I'm in here!" I called as loud as I could. My head injury promptly complained at the sound and resulting echo. On the other side of the rock pile, I heard the faintest sounds of scratching, and excited, high-pitched chatter.

Shit! Grunts!

I backed away, glanced at the entrance to the other cave, and quickly went through.

Now, I'm not a fan of dark places. It wouldn't be such a big deal if I didn't have an overactive imagination. There didn't need to be anything hiding in the shadows— I could put things there myself. Instead of focusing on the fantasy like my mind wanted to wander into, I focused on geology. The cave I was in looked to be part of a system used by groundwater during the rainy season. One cave led to another, then another, full of twists and turns and rock formations beyond my wildest dreams.

Pillars of wet, shining white stone banded in rusty red rose out of the floor and joined the ceiling easily one hundred feet overhead. Stalactites bristled along the roof of the caves like blunted vampire's teeth. The stalagmites I skirted around were taller than my five-foot-three-inches.

I held my shield forward and slightly overhead for protection and light. The further I went, the more the ground sloped down. Maybe I should stop and go back. The guys won't be able to find me down here—

Sarge's words rang in my ears, louder than the throbbing of my head and dripping water: _"We move forward men; it's the only way to go!"_

He was right.

I paused to rest at the edge of a pond filled with clear water. At the very bottom, long white things darted here and there. I lifted my shield for better light. If I had been on Earth, I would have called them blind cave fish. They were swimming creatures, at least, with too many fins and snouts that belonged on an anteater. Although tempted to toss a stone in the water to frighten them, I let them be and continued on.

To ease my nervousness I tried singing. My voice bounced off the walls and returned to me from several different directions. That was worse than the underground silence and dripping water, the ghosts of my voice echoed back long after I'd shut my mouth tight. While here I needed to be able to listen for my safety. Not that there _was_ anything down here other than goofy-looking fish with long noses. And the salamander-looking thing that scared me to death. And the…bats? They winged overhead, chattering and squeaking, flapping two pairs of wings.

I missed Grif. I wanted him down here with me, even if he hated bats.

But if there were bat-like creatures, it stood to reason that there had to be an opening to the outside world, somewhere. I just had to find it and… somehow get the guys' attention and not the big scary hoard of aliens. Okay. One thing at a time. The next cave I came to dwarfed the previous ones in all meanings of the word. Even after straining my eyes in the dim light, I couldn't see to the other side. Blood Gulch might have fit comfortably inside it.

What I did see, however, were the pale waters of an underground lake. A more adventurous person might have approached its shore to see it more clearly. Given everything that had already happened today, and my sprained ankle, I didn't have much stomach for any more adventure. I kept my back to the smooth walls and looked for another opening to go through. My boot slipped into a depression and ice-cold water splashed against my legs.

"Gah! Geez!"

Despite the damp environment, my throat was terribly dry. I stared at the puddle. Did I dare drink from it? Kneeling, I touched two fingers into the water and held them to my nose. The scent of sulfur nearly made me gag. I'd already smelled the sulfur in the caves, but that was a great shock to my nose all at once. Okay, this water wasn't for drinking. The least I could do was clean the dried blood out of my hair, though.

About halfway around the cave's perimeter I found a gap in the rock big enough for me to go through. I hesitantly stepped inside. Beside me, lake water lapped against its shore. I stopped.

It hadn't been moving before.

I whimpered. My heart's racing could have easily outdone a NASCAR stock car.

"Oh God, oh God…"

_Don't look. Keep moving forward._

There was nothing here. My imagination created monsters anyway. I bolted through the opening, hobbling as fast as I could. The tunnel was smooth and slick, worn down by groundwater. A dark red line marked the water level's position when it wasn't empty.

_If you don't slow down and get a hold of yourself, you're going to get hurt!_

My winter boots, meant for walking on ice, compensated for the polished quality of the tunnel's rock. That didn't mean I could be stupid, so I held my arms out, moving like a penguin to keep my balance. The tunnel turned and started inclining upward. I'd lost nearly all sense of direction down here, but it felt like I was heading back the way I came in a different pathway. Good. Maybe I'll find a way out into the valley's walls where I could find the Reds and Blues. Along with direction, I had no sense of time, either. Part of me hoped they would succeed in their mission, the other part of me hoped they were searching for me too.

The passageway widened into another cave. This one didn't feel quite as oppressive, for some reason, but I couldn't find a way out of it. Painfully I circled its walls with a hopping gait, searching for a gap or crack or _something_ I could go through to get out. I really, _really_ did not want to go back to the massive cave and its insanely creepy lake.

Something wet _smacked_ on stone.

I froze. Every sense my body possessed ratcheted up in sensitivity at the prompting of rushing adrenaline. The wet smack came again, but quieter, along with the sliding of something massive and fleshy. There. Be…hind….meee….

Turning, I lowered my shield and looked through it. A... a... _creature_ would have looked back if it had eyes. Thin skin coverings filled the space where they should have been. "Oh dear Lord..." I moaned. "Help me, please…"

It looked like a crocodile in body shape: Low, pressed to the ground, four legs sticking out from the sides; not positioned directly underneath. Its thick tail is what must have made that smacking sound. Except it wasn't a crocodile. By all comparison a croc would have been downright adorable. This thing didn't have scales or reptilian skin. It had short, ragged fur that was missing in some places. Its ears were round and huge; whiskers poked out around its snout.

A rat. A hideous, humongous mutated rat— that's what it was.

It shuffled forward, obviously searching for me by smell and hearing—or maybe it already knew where I was, aided by a sense that could 'see' heat? Dear God, I don't know!

"Go AWAY!" I shrieked.

It halted and flattened its ears as if pained by my screech. Oh, it didn't like that? Fine!

"GO AWAY! Leave me ALONE! Go eat those silly-looking fish! I don't taste good! I'm not even from your _planet!_"

Frantic, I searched for the way _out_— there had to be one, there HAD to be! There! The rock changed colors— why? Why was it different? It was grey, not brown or shimmering white, not like—

The monster moved.

"STAY the fuck BACK!"

The rat-crocodile-thing stopped in mid-step. Its blunt snout swished in my direction. I picked up a rock and chucked it. I missed. The rock clattered next to its foot but it didn't seem bothered by it.

"I am NOT going to die down here!" I threw another rock. It struck his head, right on top of its missing left eye. The creature hissed angrily.

Making the hungry monstrosity angry was bad.

The grey rock! I scooted to it. It looked like— likelike— concrete! Yes! Like the facility we'd been approaching from the outside! Andandand- THERE! Oh my God yes, a hole where water had forced its way through, breaking the concrete. Big enough to get through if I—

When I touched it, an electric shock jolted through my body.

"WHAT?"

Leaning to look, I could see a shimmering yellow curtain. A force-field?

"NO! Let me through! Let me THROUGH!"

The creature shuffled toward me.

"STAY BACK!" I hurled another rock. Somehow it dodged it. How the hell-? Rocks weren't enough. If that thing charged me, my shield was going to mean shit. WhatwasI—I needed—A freaking Spartan! Or even an Elite! I'd have settled for a Grunt if I—

I had a plasma pistol.

I grabbed it and pulled. The knot Doc had tied around it would not come undone, it was stuck to my belt loop. The creature had become bolder, sensing its prey was trapped. I twisted the weapon around to face my enemy and I found the trigger.

"DIE!"

A bolt of green plasma energy went off. The creature flattened itself against the cave floor, its blind face tracking the energy blast. How could I NOT hit something THAT fucking BIG?

Wait... Tracking the plasma?

I fired again. The creature 'watched' the bolt. I tested the force-field in the concrete wall with my foot and was rewarded with another electrical shock.

"Please! Somebody hear me! I need to get inside! _Please!_" Between the tears streaming down my face and the Jackal's shield I could hardly see. I kicked the force-field again.

"It is deactivated!" A light, gentle voice said, the most beautiful thing ever to float through my ears."Quickly, thy time is short!"

The creature was now torn between eating me and the plasma blasts I kept shooting off. "Do you wanna go fetch, you nightmare? Go fetch! Mmm, plasma sure is yummy!"

I angled the pistol up and shot at a nice, high position meant to throw the plasma as far as possible. "Go get it!"

The creature 'watched' it go—long enough to—

Flicking off my shield, I crawled through the hole, ignoring my aching head when I bumped it, ignoring my screaming, cursing ankle and the distinct possibility that I might just be devoured—

"_Hsssssssss!"_

I yanked my foot through in time to see the monstrosity charging for the hole. I screamed.

Its nose bashed into a yellow force-field. The electric shock threw it halfway across the cave on its back. It lay there, limp.

* * *

_To be Continued…_


	7. Chapter 6

The Mission

A Record

by Starath

**Chapter Six**

**

* * *

**

My hand burned from holding the overheated plasma pistol. I pressed it against the cold concrete, sobbing. Seriously, when was all this going to _end?_ That thing was going to be in my nightmares for the rest of my life, I just know it. Resting my forehead on the wall, I checked my hand. A blister had begun to rise below my thumb. Oh, great. Yet another thing to hurt like hell for today.

"Fear no more, thou art safe." The woman's voice meant well, but it had no source, which was just plain creepy. I turned on the Jackal shield again and its light flooded a long, damp corridor. Overhead cables and pipes were packed into the ceiling. Some sort of service tunnel?

"Whoever you are, thank you. But I can't see you."

"I have no holographic projectors in this part of the facility."

Holographic what? I frowned, "Wait, are you an AI? Like Delta?"

"I do not know of whom thy speaks of, but yes, I am an AI. My designation is Crystal Athena."

"You can call me Starath."

"Thou art not a soldier, yet thou hath came with the Spartans." Athena's voice held some curiosity. "Why art thou here?"

"I came by accident. A long story. You know about my friends, though? Are they inside yet?" I twisted around, slid down and put my back to the cold concrete. The temperature difference made me gasp.

"Negative. They have encountered resistance from the Covenant forces surrounding us."

"Crap." So I was the only one inside so far. Maybe I could accomplish their mission… If I knew what it was, "Athena, can you contact them?"

"Negative. I do not know their COM frequencies."

"Can you guess the frequencies?"

"Extrapolating from known TACCOM channel usage, possibly. There is a chance the Covenant could hear it as well."

"Then we'll use a code the guys will recognize." My tired mind struggled to think of something only the Blood Gulch crew would know to respond to. Ah! "Repeat the phrase 'Roses are red and violets are blue,' and do not allow channel access unless somebody says 'One day we'll cruise down Blood Gulch Avenue.' Can you do that?"

"Affirmative," Athena sounded amused. "What is the significance of such phrases?"

"It's their theme song. Let me know when somebody answers, okay?" Clawing at the wall, I stood up on shaking legs that nearly gave out on me. Nothing in my body wanted to move correctly anymore.

"My sensors indicate thy motions are unsteady." said Athena. "Art thou injured?"

"Yes. And I need food and water. Is there any pain medication here? I need something anti-inflammatory, like ibuprofen."

"I am not familiar with a product by that name."

Oh, duh. We're in the future. Ibuprofen probably didn't exist anymore by that name. What a shame, because I would kill for some right now. "Um… I need something for a really bad headache."

"I will have a drone retrieve what thee wishes."

"Thank you. Is there a way out of here? Where is 'here', anyway?" I glanced down the corridor. "It's awfully wet."

"Thou art in the sub-basement level of the Wrightly Geological Anomaly Research Facility in the Southern Hemisphere of Eclipse-IV, located in the Antares System. Due to disrepair during the last monsoon season, water has infiltrated the sublevels of this facility. Thirty meters ahead you will see a stairwell leading to the basement."

I grimaced. Walking all that way AND up stairs with a sprained ankle? This was going to be fun. I shuffled down the corridor and found the stairs. I counted them. Thirteen. Right. Compared to everything else today this would be easy. At least I had company now and nothing was going to kill me within the next five minutes.

"Athena?"

"Yea?"

"When did the Covenant get here? Do you know why they're guarding for facility?"

"The beasts of dread have occupied this valley for two sunsets and seventeen hours. They wish to obtain the data which resides within my information databases."

I stopped half way, clinging to the railing to take a breather, "But I thought AIs were destroyed if Covenant forces threatened a ship or whatever."

"Verily thou art correct. It could not be risked with what I guard. My destruction was delayed."

"How are you able to keep the Covenant from getting inside?"

"I am not without means with which to repel the dread beasts from my walls."

"Cool." I reached the top of the stairs and was faced with a door. It was locked. When I turned the handle again, the lock popped open. "Thanks."

"Thou art welcome. There is another stairwell leading to ground level. I will meet thou there."

"What do you have that's so important, Athena?"

"Thou hath no need for such information. Please do not further inquire."

Wow. That was blunt, but it was probably a programmed response of some kind. Maybe that's why the guys had been sent here, to get the information she had? It made sense, sort of. Why did it _have_ to be the Blood Gulch crew, though? Athena had mistaken them for true Spartans. Boy was she in for a surprise…

Daylight filtered through the small square window in the door at the top of the second flight of stairs. I hauled myself upward, eager to drink in the light after being stuck in the caves. The hinges creaked when I yanked the door open and I leaned heavily on the doorjamb as I turned off my shield. Windows lining the halfway allowed me to see outside. Daylight. Such a wonderful, glorious, simple thing... teardrops brimmed around my eyes.

"Why dost thee shed tears?"

Athena's voice directed my gaze down. A robot on wheels sat there with a tray on its flat head. It looked like a cylindrical trash can with a big head and little arms. A cup of water, a prepackaged blueberry muffin and a tiny packet were arranged in a neat row on the tray. Beside them, perched with perfect balance on the tray's edge, was a barn owl. At least it _looked _like a barn owl, except its body was made of shining white and blue crystal I could see through. Round amber eyes blinked once. The owl tilted its head.

"Athena?" I asked.

"Yea. This is my avatar."

"You're beautiful."

The owl fluffed out its feathers, "I thank thee for thine kind compliment. But thou hast neglected my question."

"Huh? Oh." I wiped my eyes. "It's just… I'm happy to see sunlight after wandering in the caves."

"Thy relief is then understandable." She nodded at the contents of the tray, "Dost this fulfill thy requests?"

Suddenly exhausted, I crouched down and ripped open the packet containing two red capsules. I downed them with a gulp of water. The muffin was stale and the blueberries rolled around in my mouth like little rocks. It tasted wonderful.

Athena watched me eat. "Thou must have been through a terrific journey, if by any indication of your clothing and appetite."

Clothing? I stopped in mid-chew and glanced at my shirt and jeans. They were dirty, ripped and full of holes made from crawling in gravel and near misses from plasma. I caught my reflection in the silver tray. My hair was a disaster, and my face was smeared with mud and some blood, both red and fluorescent blue. I really hope Grunt blood is water-soluble. I tried to straighten my hair and bumped the lump on my head by accident.

"OW!"

Athena started and hopped off the tray, fluttering around me, "Art thou seriously injured?"

I expected to hear something when she flapped her wings, but nothing came. There was no air movement, either. "No. I don't think so, anyway." I swallowed the last bites of the blueberry muffin, which settled into the empty pit that was my stomach. "That's not important. Do you have somewhere I can go that's safe and useful if we contact my friends? If an Elite was tall enough he might see me through those windows."

"Thy concerns are notable. We will go elsewhere. Was the food and drink satisfying?"

"Immensely, thank you. I could do with some more, though. I lost my breakfast about two hours ago."

Athena wheeled around and hovered. The hologram of her wings moved in slow motion, creating a blur of fragile crystal feathers. "The drone will fetch more. Please, follow me with haste. Others have failed at this endeavor already."

"Wait, what?" I stumbled up when she winged away down the hall. The tray-carrying drone's wheels whirred and it rolled off in the opposite direction. Steeling myself, I went after the holographic owl as fast as I could limp. She banked left into an open area that must have been the Geological Facility's lobby. Twin glass doors leading outside allowed me a lovely view of a Hunter's backside. I pressed myself against the wall to stay out of sight, fixated on the alien. I didn't see the brochure display until I knocked it over. CRAP! It heard that. It HAD to have heard that. I'm dead I'm dead I'm dead—

"Worry not." said Athena. "I have activated sound buffers along with my protective force-field."

I peeked out the window. The Hunter hadn't moved. I let out a long, pent up breath. Athena flew by again. "Come! To the elevator."

On a whim I picked up one of the brochures, folded it in half, and shoved it in my pants pocket. The elevator automatically parted its doors when I approached it. I limped inside and held onto the railings so I would stay standing. The button labeled '2' lit up red.

Athena's floating owl hologram met me when the doors opened at the third floor. "We are on the technician's floor where my physical equipment is kept, along with private research labs."

"Nifty," I was beyond giving complicated answers now, since it required too much brain power. All I wanted by this point was a nice comfy chair. Or better yet, my own bed. Mmmm, bed. Yeah. When I see it again, I'm going to sleep for a solid _week_.

We reached what appeared to be the core of the building, the room hummed with the persistent white noise of a running computer. Most of the monitors were dark, except for one that continuously ran lines of code written in green. Something similar to a keyboard stood out on the terminal's desktop. In front of it was… was…

A nice comfy chair, the kind with puffy pads, smooth and soft black fabric. Finally, I could sit down! I hustled to it, hurrying through the last entryway. A blur of blue and white flashed in front of me but I phased through it.

"Starath, wait!"

I tripped over something hard and landed flat on my face.

"Ow! Dammit! What now?" Both my ankle and head berated me for falling, as if they thought I did it on purpose. The painkillers must be working by now, though, or they would have been screaming much louder. Grumbling I shoved myself off the floor to see what I had tripped over.

A blank faceplate stared at me.

"Gaaaaah! What the?" I scooted to the other end of the entryway within a moment.

It wasn't a Spartan's helmet. It was too oblong top to bottom. The armor was grey, dented and worn like it had survived a hailstorm of ammunitions fire. If I hadn't known better I would have thought the person inside the armor was resting in a crumpled position. The dark red smear across the wall told a different story. It ended where the soldier had fallen into his final sleep. Athena landed on the toe of his boot, her hologram reflecting off the armor and faceplate. Blue light scattered across the floor like broken glass. Stamped on the left breastplate, near the top corner, were the letters 'J.J.'

"He didn't make it." She said softly.

He still had his weapon clutched in both hands. "What was he here for? I don't recognize…" My mind searched for a match to the shape of his helmet. I'd seen it before, where…?

"ODSTs were sent to this facility shortly after everyone fled the dread beasts of the Covenant. By then they had overtaken this valley. His comrades made sure he got in. He was unable to live long enough to complete the mission."

My mind zeroed in on one word. ODST! That's right. He was an Orbital Drop Shock Trooper, or Helljumper, the soldiers who gladly dropped planetside from space. Sarge had told me about them. He said they were crazy SOBs, but men who were true fighters to the end.

"How long has he, um…?"

"One sunset ago."

No wonder he smelled funny. "What was his mission?"

Athena blinked her big eyes and twisted her head to look in another direction, "Please do not further inquire."

"Oh come on, Athena. My friends must be here to do what he couldn't do before he died! I have a right to know what they're risking their lives for. Hell, my life is on the line too! The Covenant could get in at any time!"

"They will not."

"How do you know?"

"My force-field is impenetrable unless I see fit otherwise. They cannot get in. That is why they are waiting for their Engineers."

The fine hairs on my neck stood on end. "What?"

"The dread beasts await the arrival of their technologically-inclined caste members. They cannot first destroy me, so they seek to dismantle me and access data their leaders command they take."

Was that what Sarge meant by their 'window of opportunity?' Oh, crap. Oh no. Who knows how much they'd been delayed because of me! "What for? What do they want?"

This time Athena spread her wings and flew to the computer room, "Please do not further inquire."

"Dammit!" I pounded my fist into the carpet. This whole situation had reached a completely new level of absolute lunacy. Wasn't _ANYTHING going to be EASY?_ I had half a mind to chuck a grenade at that damn blue owl and her tightly-clamped beak. This was so unfair! I wanted to go home! HomehomeHOME!

"_But that ain't gonna happen, cos we've got a job to do, and we need _everybody_ here to buck up, shut up, and do what needs to be done!"_

I dragged a hand over my face, biting my lip in an effort not to cry. Water leaked out around the corners of my eyelids. It was amazing I hadn't run out of tears by now. Sarge was right. Again. I stared at the ODST in front of me. What was he like? Was he friendly? Well-liked by his teammates? How many missions had he lived through? Had he saved anyone? When he died, did he have any regrets…?

The last thought lingered too long, echoing in my exhausted mind. I didn't know _what_ to do anymore. What _could_ I do? I was a misplaced young woman caught in the middle of a war in another _universe._ I was no soldier. I hurt. I was still hungry. I had no idea where my friends were, who were the _real_ soldiers. Not Spartans, but good men who did what they set out to do.

My quiet sobs became deep, agonized cries from somewhere inside my tired soul and exhausted body. What if I died here too? What if I never saw them again? I curled up tight, trying to hide, trying to find comfort, trying to…sl...ee...p…

* * *

_To be continued…._


	8. Chapter 7

The Mission

A Record

by Starath

**Chapter Seven**

**

* * *

**

"Starath, awaken!" Athena's anxious voice broke through. My head jerked up. She was perched on my knee and the blue-white glow of her hologram made my eyes hurt.

"Hmm?" My own voice was thick and hard to control. Oh, I must have… dozed off... for how long?

"I have obtained the correct response to your radio code."

The hamster in my head struggled to begin running on its wheel. "You what?"

She huffed, fluffing her crystal feathers. "Make haste. The waiting party is not a patient man."

That jarred the hamster into action. I pushed away from the wall and stood shakily, stumbling more than walking into the main computer room. I sank into the nice, comfy chair. Damn, why hadn't I bothered to nap here instead? "Let him through."

"Acknowledged," Athena landed gracefully on the terminal and hooted once. "You may speak now, oh foul-tongued one."

"Hey, fuck off, computer lady! Is she there? Star, are you there?" Only one person could sound so pissed off and concerned at the same time. I giggled, then clamped a hand over my mouth in case he could hear it.

"Yes Church, I'm here."

"Finally! Where the fuck have you been girl? We tried looking on the hillside before the Covenant ran us off and nice thinking with the song lyrics even though it bugged the shit out of me until Caboose figured it out, can you believe—" He stopped himself, inhaled, and tried again. "We need to get to your position from the outside. Quickly. We've beaten off the Covenant but they're going to hammer us again in less than two minutes."

"Right. How many are with you?"

"All eight of us, but we're pretty scattered."

"Okay. I don't know what this place is like on the outside. Athena, can you direct them to a way in?"

"Certainly. According to my visual feeds you are located near the staff entrance on the west side of the facility. Proceed nine meters northwest. You will see the door."

A pause. "Shiiiit. There's a Hunter guarding it."

"There is but one creature and eight of you. Surely you can defeat it?"

"Hey, not liking your sarcasm, lady."

"Once you are finished dispatching that dread beast I will allow you through my force-field."

There was another pause, long enough to make me worry. Church said, "We're on it. Star, I need you to do something for me."

"Of course." I nodded.

"Talk to Caboose for a sec. He's been super-worried since he lost you on the hillside and it's ruined his focus for the mission. Getting him to do anything right is worse than usual."

"Oh…" The poor guy. "Sure."

"Thanks. I'll see you shortly." Church's voice cut off abruptly. The radio popped with static.

"Starry? Church said you're okay, are you there? Can you hear me? Starry? Starry?"

The mournful tone in Caboose's voice made me want to cry. "Yes, I hear you Caboose."

"I'm so sorry we lost you on the hill! There was that Hunter, then there were two! I ran out of rockets, then there were the Grunts. I tried looking for you but the rocks buried your hole and-and I couldn't reach! It was so bad, we had to leave but I didn't know where you were—" Caboose stopped to take a breath.

"It's okay." I cut him off; otherwise he would have continued for the next ten minutes. As it was it sounded like I wasn't the only one who wanted to cry. "I'm okay. I'm safe now. Caboose, can you do something for me?"

"Absolutely. Name it."

"I want you to focus and listen to what Church tells you, because it's very important right now. If you do that, when we're home again we'll make cookies together, okay?"

He gasped. "That would be fun!"

I sniffled and dried my face with the back of my hand. "It will be lots of fun Caboose, but you have to do your job first."

"I can do that just for you, Starry." He paused. "Church says it's time to go. Bye!"

"Okay, bye!"

No reply came.

"He has severed the radio connection." Athena preened her crystal feathers with her sharp hooked beak. "That one does not seem as if he is the brightest bulb in the visual display. He speaks curiously for a highly-trained warrior."

"He's not…" I searched for the right way to say it. "He's not intelligent in the normal manner, but he more than makes up for it with his heart."

"Verily, that I will not deny." She swept a wing toward the door behind us. "The drone has brought thee more food and water."

I spun the comfy chair around. The drone on wheels and a tray on its head trundled along the carpet carrying two prepackaged muffins and another cup of water. It hardly stopped moving when I grabbed the first muffin without bothering to read the label. The taste told me it was banana-nut flavored. I brushed the crumbs off the computer console after the muffin was gone.

"How lazy were the workers here that they needed robots to bring them food?"

Athena laughed; a gentle owl's 'whooo' repeated twice. "Not lazy. If they did not have food and drink brought to them, they would not have thought to eat, so involved they were with their studies of this planet's geology."

The second muffin's dark coloration made me read the label before tearing open its package. Chocolate-chocolate chip. Mmm. Whoever stocked the food here had good taste. "What's so special about the planet? I imagine that's why this whole facility was built. What did you call it? 'Geological Differences?'"

"The Wrightly Geological Anomaly Research Facility," she corrected me. "And yes, this facility was built to study the anomalous features in Eclipse-IV's geological records and rock strata. Eclipse-IV follows very few conventional processes used to explain a planet's life history on other worlds."

I frowned, partly because my wonderful, stale chocolate muffin was already halfway gone, but also because that didn't make sense. "When I was outside everything looked normal to me. The caves were… mostly normal too." I shuddered. "I never want to see that creature again."

"Perhaps to one who did not know any better it would look 'normal,' and the life-form you encountered is called a Rattussuchus. They are really quite fascinating."

"Sure, when they're not trying to eat you." I licked my fingers clean and tried to clean up the mess I'd made.

Athena swiveled her head to stare at the wall. "Thy companions have made it in. I will return." She launched off the console.

I expected watch her fly away. Instead she vanished. "Whoa." Grabbing the cup, I downed the water in two swallows and set the cup back on the drone's tray. "Thanks."

It beeped and rolled away.

Now that my stomach was finally satisfied and no longer muttering about being empty, I felt better. So this was it. The guys were finally inside the Geological Research Facility so they could do whatever it was their mission said to do. For all her politeness, Athena was certainly adamant about protecting the information she had.

What could possibly be so important that she couldn't be destroyed when the Covenant came, like she was supposed to be? Why hadn't the scientists who worked here thought to get the information themselves? Maybe they hadn't had the time? I threw my hands up. I didn't know. A troop of ODSTs were sent in to get it and all of them died trying. Now the whole crew from Blood Gulch was here. Were they going to die too?

"No. Because _I_ sure as hell am not going to die."

Master Chief must have had a good reason for sending my friends here. If he didn't, he was going to get kicked in the shin. And no more pancakes for him either.

"Arrrrgghh… We're halfway done, right? Getting out can't be as hard as getting in. It _can't_ be. We're going to do what you couldn't, J.J. Watch over us, okay?"

The dead Helljumper said nothing.

I pretended he heard me anyway. Resting my chin on my palm, I closed my eyes. What would have been like to be a Helljumper? To wear that armor and literally drop into the thick of battle, with only yourself and your team members to aid you? Was it like being a Spartan? Was it—

Athena flew in and landed on the arm of my chair, "They are here."

Startled out of a doze, my sense of hearing refocused and caught the sound of heavy boots on the carpet. I pushed myself out of the comfy chair and rushed to the entryway. A soldier in light-blue armor appeared in the hall.

"Church! Church!"

He halted, leveled his battle rifle, then let it rest on his shoulder, "Star?"

"Oh my God I _missed _you!" My hurt ankle only allowed a shuffling run, but I didn't stop until I slammed into him. He actually rocked back an inch or two.

"Jesus, Star! You shouldn't be walking on that foot! Couldn't you have waited another twenty seconds for us to get there?"

"No!" I hugged him, "I'm so happy… You're okay!" My voice broke and I sobbed against his chest plate.

"Of course I am. Shit! When'd you get your head hurt, too?" His fingers brushed my hair, near the lump, "That's it. No more missions for you, girl."

"I g-got it when the cave-in happened. I'm okay though, really. I got painkillers from Athena."

"You gotta be more careful. We should get Doc up here to look at that." He tensed a bit, sighed, and patted my back. "You can let go now."

I pulled away. "Sorry. Who's with you?" Still clinging to his arm, I hobbled to the side to see.

"Yo." Tucker waved. The movement was a little jerky, like he'd hurt his shoulder.

Simmons turned the corner and dashed by. He moved so fast the rush of air he created almost knocked me over. "What's the hurry?" I asked.

"Oh, we're only over an hour over the mission timetable and he's the only one who can do the important stuff. Today's been just _awesome_." Despite his sarcasm, Church sounded tired. "Come on, let's get you to where you can sit down."

I started to let him lead me back to the computer room. I saw something orange behind Tucker, "Grif!"

"Christine!" He jogged toward us and I met him part way. He dropped his rifle and crouched so I could hug him properly. He squeezed me so tight I nearly lost my breath. His armor smelled of dirt and alien blood. My forehead bumped his faceplate. "Don't you _ever_ get lost like that again." He said.

"I'll try not to." If I squinted, I could sort of see through the reflective material of his faceplate. "Do you feel like a soldier yet?"

"Getting there." He squeezed again and repeated softly, "I'm getting there."

"I wish I could see your face." I whispered.

"You'll see it later, when we're home." He promised as I leaned on his armor, listening to the hum of his shields, and enjoyed the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Behind me, somebody chuckled.

"Bow chicka bow—"

"TUCKER!" Grif, Church and I didn't let him finish.

He laughed, "I'm just doin' my job!"

A frustrated cry suddenly came from the computer room. "What do you MEAN the data is _not_ _retrievable?_"

"Uh oh." Grif stood up and retrieved his weapon. "Simmons is mad."

Church snorted. "Like this mission was going to magically become easy? Let's go see what the problem is. Grif, don't let Star walk back."

"I can walk if—EEK!" He swept me off the ground before I could get away. "Griiiiif!"

"Hey, orders are orders, Star."

I glared at him. He was grinning under that helmet. I just _know_ he was grinning. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"A little."

Tucker brought up the rear when we followed Church. "Aww, isn't that cute? You've got your own knight in shining orange armor, Starath!"

My heart jolted and traded places with my stomach. I clamped my mouth shut, looked Grif in the faceplate, and saw my reflection blushing. He poked me in the ribs to make me squeak. Tucker laughed again, and this time got to say the whole phrase.

"Bow chicka bow wow!"

We found Simmons hunched over the computer console, typing furiously while he argued with Athena at the same time. Long strings of computer programming code scrolled across the monitor faster than I could read it. I'd never seen an angry owl before, but from her fluffed out feathers and body posture, she was just as unimpressed as Simmons was. My comfy chair had been shoved across the room. Grif deposited me in it and stood by its side.

"How can the data _not_ be retrievable?" demanded Simmons. "It has to be in your database somewhere!"

"As I have stated before, thy proclamation is only partly true."

"You said the data isn't here!"

"Nay, that is thy wrongful assumption. The data thou seeketh has its place but not its original pathways."

Simmons poked the monitor, his finger making a loud _tap_ on the glass. "It should be right here, that's where the command lines trace it. There's nothing but junk data in its place. Did it get moved or corrupted?"

"I moved it."

"Then where—"

"It is in a better location than it was before."

"And where the hell is _that_?"

"Where the pathways do not go."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Simmons' voice broke; something it did when he was at the end of his rope.

"There is no need to lose thy mind over this. It is not difficult."

"_You're_ being difficult!"

"Uh, guys?" Tucker called from the entry room, "Did you know there's a dead guy in here?"

"What?" Grif went to go see. "Aw, _damn_."

"That's the trooper we were told about." said Church, his attention divided between them and the data conversation. "Leave him alone, you two."

"I wasn't going to touch him!" said Tucker.

Grif nudged J.J.'s boot with a foot and shook his head. "At least we made it further than he did."

"While I do not disagree with thee, orange one," began Athena, "I question thy capacity for effective judgment if ye have allowed a young woman unsuited for war into this situation." Everyone stiffened. Athena left the console and flew to my chair, perching on the armrest. "Why, if not for my care and aid she may have been massacred by the beasts underground. Where were ye then, Spartans?"

I swallowed. No one moved, but the silence did not last long. Church strode forward.

"Okay, _first_ of all, we're not true Spartans. Second of all, it's not like we lost her on purpose. Third of all, I don't want to hear a SINGLE goddamn word out of you unless it's to help Simmons, alright? We're kind of _pressed for time._"

Athena's amber eyes widened. Her beak clacked together. I reached out to smooth her ruffled feathers, only to have my hand pass through her hologram. "Athena, it was an accident when they lost me—"

"Like it was when thee came to be here in the first place?"

"Yeah."

She looked Church up and down. "Ye not be 'true Spartans', yea? No wonder ye hath done such a terrible job."

"Look computer lady, we didn't come THIS far to be insulted by a fucking bird that glows in the dark! Get over there and help Simmons. NOW."

"Or what? Thy vulgarities mean nothing. I am supervisor of this facility—"

"Athena!" I interrupted her and Church before he could start cursing. "A lot of strange things have happened today, but that doesn't mean they're bad soldiers. The sooner they get what they want, the sooner I can go home safely. Could you please help them?"

She glanced at everyone and huffed. "Yea, for thy benefit, I will."

"Thank you."

"Thou art welcome." She directed my gaze to the door where Tucker and Grif still stood by J.J. "The drone hath brought you fresh clothing. Follow it to clean thyself and dress at the proper facilities. It is the best I can do short of putting you in armor like these… gentlemen."

I sighed. She hadn't outright insulted them again but at least she meant well. I pushed myself out of the chair and immediately stumbled. Church caught me around the middle.

"Whoa. Here, Star, take it easy. Grif, get over here. Help her get to wherever that robot on wheels goes."

"On it." Grif promptly scooped me up and carried me out the door.

"Can I come?" asked Tucker, a little too eagerly.

"Yes," said Church, then changed his mind. "Wait, she'll be changing clothes. So _no_."

"Aw! I promise not to look! I bet Grif wouldn't let me anyway!"

"That's right, I wouldn't." We passed Tucker on the way out. Grif paused just long enough to meet him faceplate-to-faceplate. "Because if you did, I'd break your arm."

"Hey, there's no need for violence..." Tucker stepped back with hands up in surrender.

Over Grif's shoulder I could see Athena hop back onto the computer console. She laughed with two soft 'whoos,' "That one is of the protective nature, yea?"

I ducked my head and hid my face in his neck, fairly certain I was blushing.

* * *

_To be continued…_


	9. Chapter 8

The Mission

A Record

By Starath

**Chapter 8**

* * *

The drone led us down the hall and around the corner to a restroom. It pushed the door open and went through. Grif caught the door with his shoulder. The drone stopped next to a row of sinks and beeped. He lowered me to the floor, next to a bench. Sitting, I rifled through the clothing the drone had on its tray. A grey sweatshirt, plain white t-shirt and pants were neatly folded in a stack. Athena had even thought to include a fresh pair of socks.

For an AI she was awfully motherly; maybe she had to look after the scientists working here? Or was she a caring 'person,' of sorts? I looked at my own clothes. Dirty and ripped as they were, I disliked the thought of removing my boots to change my jeans. No sense in disturbing the wrapping Doc had put around my ankle. Grif suddenly exhaled loudly. I looked up at him, frowning. Did he think I was going to change with him here?

"What?" he asked. My gaze went to the door. Grif coughed. "Right. Sorry. I'll be outside, but I'd prefer it if the door stayed open partway."

My eyebrow went up.

"What? I'm not going to look! I just… Just in case, Star."

I smiled, "Okay. Now shoo."

On his way out he grabbed the trashcan and wedged it between the doorjamb and door. When I was sure he had his back turned, I eagerly stripped off my wrecked sweatshirt and t-shirt underneath. Hobbling to the sink I leaned on the basin and got a nice close-up view of how I looked covered in dirt and two different colors of blood. The plasma pistol tied to my belt loops banged against the porcelain. I checked for cuts and scrapes and found a few, but they were minor, thank goodness. The bruises outnumbered them. I grabbed a handful of paper towels and went about cleaning myself off, muttering curses whenever something throbbed or stung or hurt in general.

The nice white basin quickly became brown, pink and light blue. Once mostly cleansed, I contemplated cleaning my hair since a bird could have nested comfortably in it. There were already nesting materials available—a twig and a few leaves. Grumbling, I tugged them out of the red-gold mess and ran wet fingers through my hair to try and straighten it out. I'd have to wait until I got home for it to be properly washed. After this was over with I wanted a haircut. Grunt blood had stained a few patches blue. What fun that was going to be to explain...

"How're you doin' in there, Starath?" Grif called from his spot.

"I'm fine. Feeling somewhat human now."

He chuckled, "That's good. Hey... I'm sorry you had to be involved in this."

I glanced at the opening in the doorway where I could see his back. "It's not your fault. If it's anybody's fault, it's O'Malley's."

"I just wish there was a better way to protect you. It's gonna be a hard fight getting out of here."

"I've survived this long. Try not to worry, Grif." He probably would anyway, but I wanted to tell him that. All of them worried about me. Ever since they came to my reality it's like I'd been adopted by a dozen big brothers all at once. "Simmons will get whatever it is he wants from Athena and then we'll kick alien butt and go home."

His armor creaked a little, "There has to be a better way to protect you, though. We're good, but we can't cover for you and..."

I hobbled back to the bench and unfolded the t-shirt. It was a size too big, but I wasn't about to be picky.

"Red-One, can you come up here?"

"Huh?" My head popped out of the shirt as I tugged it over my stomach.

"Yes, it's really important. Please, trust me on this. It's for Star."

Oh, he must be on the radio. I slipped the sweatshirt on; grateful it was one with a zipper and hood. A patch on the right side had a circle with the letters 'WGARF' stitched inside it. If you looked at it in a certain way the patch kind of resembled an owl. I patted the drone on its tray-head. "Thanks."

It beeped.

I pulled the door open and tapped Grif's shoulder. "I'm done."

He spun around, "You shouldn't be walking on that."

You know, I know they said that because they cared, but I was getting tired of hearing it. "I'm walking on it anyway. Let's go back. What did you call Sarge for?"

Despite my attempt to dodge him, Grif picked me up. "I had an idea, and if anyone could make it work, it's Sarge."

"You? Have an idea? Grif, that means you're thinking. And don't you mean 'Red-One'?"

"I know, weird, huh? My reputation as a slacker is sadly tarnished. And technically, you should have said 'Red-Three'."

"Point," Looking at his faceplate, I thought about kissing it, where his cheek would be, and then wrinkled my nose. _What __was__ I __thinking?_ "Ew."

"Hmm?"

"Nothing."

The situation in the computer room apparently hadn't gotten any better when we returned. Simmons and Athena were talking about… I don't know what they were talking about; every other word didn't make sense to me. Church stood behind them, fidgeting and adjusting his grip on his rifle every ten seconds, obviously fighting off impatience. He wasn't cursing or telling them to hurry up, though. Wow.

Being the smart man that he was, Tucker was in the entry by J.J., out of the way and keeping quiet. He nodded at us, tilted his helmet towards the computer room and shook his head.

"Not good?" I asked, and swatted Grif's hand that was holding my legs up. "Put me down, please." He did, but only after a noticeable pause, and I tolerated the arm around my shoulders, but only so I could lean on him.

"The AI can't get to the data we want, or something." Tucker shrugged, then flinched like the gesture hurt him. "Listening to her and Simmons is like listening to two geeks at a Star Trek convention."

"Sarge is on his way up here." said Grif, gesturing over his shoulder.

"Actually, I'm _already_ up here." Tucker, Grif and I started in surprise at the voice and turned around. Sarge's shotgun _clanked_ against his shoulder armor, where he let it rest. By his stance I was certain he was scowling even though I couldn't see his face. "What's this brilliant idea of yours, knucklehead? It better be good."

"Well, Sir, as you can see, there's an OSDT here." Grif nodded at the limp form against the wall.

"Yeah, just like his three buddies we found mangled outside. Yer point?"

"Can you modify his armor so Star can wear it?"

Sarge's annoyed body language instantly vanished. He looked over J.J., then me, clearly interested by the possibility. Wait… _Me_, wear a Helljumper's armor?

"Won't it be too heavy?" I asked. "And what are the chances it would fit right?"

Grif motioned at Sarge. "That's why Sa— Red-One will modify it, so at least you'll have some protection. Could you do it, Sir?"

"Hmmm… It'll take a little figgerin'… Star, can you lift your body weight?" I stared at him, I was lucky if I could lift a 20-pound bag of dog food. Sarge scratched his helmet's chin. "Ah… Right. If I take it apart for the important parts…"

Church stomped up to us, "Sarge? What the hell are you doing here? Shouldn't you be guarding the lower level?"

He muttered a few things I couldn't hear, then glanced up. "This became more important. What's the hold-up up here anyway? We oughtta be done by now."

"Tell me about it! Something's wrong with the data, or it's been moved, or something. I don't know. The computer lady says the directory paths are there but the back-up databases are no longer accessible. She moved it to a safer location after the facility was abandoned but now she can't get to it, or she forgot how to get it, or she just enjoys screwing with Simmons. Either way it's pissing me off." Church took in a long breath. "What 'this' are you talking about?"

Sarge had slapped his shotgun into the slot on his back and kneeled beside J.J.'s corpse. "We suit Star up in this." He rapped a knuckle on the black chestplate of the former ODST.

"But you're _not__ making__ any __sense!_" cried Simmons from the computer room.

"Son of a bitch! What is _with __her?_" Church growled. "It's almost as if she's…. aw, shit."

"She's what?" asked Tucker, shifting his attention from the computer room to us.

Church glanced over his shoulder and spoke just above a whisper. "She might be rampant."

"Huh?" I blinked, confused.

"It happens when an AI gets too stressed out or lives too long." said Church, "No wonder she doesn't know what she's doing."

"But she took care of me just fine." I pointed out.

"Yeah, but she's programmed that way," said Church, "everything else might be confused because of what she's gone through."

I blinked again, not understanding. It must have been on my face because he sighed.

"The AI has watched the scientists here flee from the Covenant, only to be killed as soon as they got outside. She was supposed to be destroyed as per Cole Protocol, but she paused the countdown. She's been protecting herself and the data she has until someone could come and get it. That was supposed to be two days ago, but the OSDTs didn't make it far enough before they were killed too. She helped take care of the people here, Star. Watching them die would have fucked with her prime directives."

"Oh… So it's like she's been traumatized?" I asked, not as puzzled.

"Something like that." Church nodded.

"Great," said Tucker, "If the supervising AI doesn't know where she put the data, how do we get it?"

"Why not put a ghost in the machine?" I suggested, and Sarge stopped tinkering with J.J.'s armor. I tried not to look at the exposed parts of J.J's body. My stomach wanted to hurl up the lovely muffins I had just eaten. Grif, Tucker and Church stared at me, or I assume they were staring at me. I swallowed and forced my gaze to lock into Church's faceplate. "You're a Smart AI, right? Could you go into the system and track down the data yourself?"

It wasn't something Church liked talking about, but I knew he'd accepted that he wasn't really a ghost. He was an AI. Theoretically Tex was too. I didn't know enough of the situation to be sure. Cortana tried explaining it to me once, but she may as well have been teaching quantum mechanics to a hamster.

–Wait!

"Maybe this is why Master Chief wanted you guys to go on this mission!" I told them, wiggling in excitement from the revelation. "Church, you're the only one who can do this!"

"Then why did we plan to have Simmons get the data?" he demanded. His shoulders had tensed up. I guess my revelation didn't thrill him that much.

"Because Simmons is our technology guy." said Grif, "Maybe he would have been able to do this if the AI wasn't goofed up. You have to do it."

"It makes sense, Church." said Tucker, "We have to come back with something. Otherwise we blow the building for nothing and lose an edge against the Covenant."

Sarge set aside a piece of armor and looked up at the Blue's team leader, "I know it's not something you like thinking about, son, but—"

"Okay, okay, okay!" Church threw up his hands. "I get it. Jesus, what are we, some big goddamn happy family?"

My reply was automatic as I nodded and answered, "Yes."

He dropped his hands, tilted his helmet, and let his shoulders slump, "Yeah, okay." Church left our little group-huddle and went to the computer room. Clinging to Grif's elbow, I moved forward so I could watch what Church was going to do. I'd seen him as a 'ghost' plenty of times before, but only when he felt like scaring people, not functioning like a real AI. He got Athena's attention, but I didn't hear what he said because Sarge wanted mine.

"Ah, Missy, best you leave the premises now while I take this suit apart. This ain't gonna be pretty."

His radio suddenly clicked on, "Red-One, this is Red-Four, do you copy?" I glanced at Tucker and Grif. They had stiffened at the urgent tone in Donut's voice.

"Go ahead, Red-Four."

"We have new company."

Sarge took to his task with renewed energy. "Hold yer position and stay tight with the Blues. Keep me updated."

"Righty-O, Sir!"

His radio clicked off, "Red-Three, Blue-Two, I want you two guarding the west stairwell, A-SAP. Take Starath with you for the moment."

"What—" I was hustled out of the entry way and into the hall, in between Tucker and Grif.

Behind us Sarge barked, "Men! _They__'__re __here!_"

"You hear that?" I heard Church say, "I don't give a damn about your security measures, lady, I'm GOING IN!" A brilliant flash lit up the hallway. Simmons yelled in outrage. I wanted to turn around and look but Grif wouldn't let me.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Tucker took up a crouching position at the top of the stairwell, angled so he could fire straight down if he had to. Grif kept me behind him, up against the wall. "The Covenant Engineers are here." He said grimly, and checked his assault rifle, "How much ammo you got, Tucker?"

"Hopefully enough to last me."

"Yeah, me too."

"The what?" I looked back and forth between them.

"The Covenant has Engineers to do technical stuff for them." explained Tucker, "Our job was to be in and out of here before they arrived. If the Covenant can get them in here they'll be able to take the computer mainframe apart and get the data we want to remove."

"But they can't get past Athena's forcefield." I said, worry eating a hole in my stomach.

"Not necessarily," said Tucker. He actually sounded grim. "They just haven't _tried_ yet."

"Oh." I swallowed. So we were going to facing the Covenant now, for real? I'd lasted this far, but how was I going to survive an all-out combat situation? I started to feel faint. "I… don't want to die here…"

Grif patted my shoulder. "You won't, Star. I promise."

I stared into Grif's faceplate. How could he guarantee that?

"Starath!" Athena's crystal barn owl hologram flew at us and landed on Grif's head. He tried to shake her off but she ignored him, "Why did ye not tell me ye had an invasive AI with you? It is loose in my systems arrays and I cannot stop it! I have blocked the other from my terminal but the AI continues to bypass my security measures and continues to function without RAM, processing cycles or access pathways! I demand thou command that foul-mouthed virus to leave my mainframe immediately!"

As much as I wanted to giggle at her for sitting on Grif's head (which he was not impressed with) now was not the time. "Athena, he's trying to get what you couldn't find for us. We couldn't afford to wait any longer. More Covenant is here with their Engineers."

"That matters not. I can repel the dread beasts with my forcefield easily."

"Have they tried getting past it?"

"With their ineffective weaponry, yea."

"Did they use anything big?"

"Their tanks did nothing." She fluffed out her feathers and glared at me. "I again demand thou remove that virus from my system, Starath."

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that, and Church isn't a virus. He's an AI trying to do his job. If you make it easier on him he can leave sooner." I said gently, in an effort to gain her cooperation.

Athena fanned her wings, "I will not tolerate such a thing! This facility is mine to supervise, and I refuse to allow such transgressions to occur under my watch!"

Tucker laughed, "Well lady, then you're shit out of luck."

Her beak snapped together, "I beg your pardon? Hast thou been modified for flawed logic?"

"We're trying to get the job done before all hell breaks lose," snapped Grif. "And get off my head!"

The AI didn't budge. "As I have said, numerous times, they cannot get through my force—"

An explosion rocked the building, I grabbed onto Grif for stability, but he nearly fell too. More explosions thundered around us like lightning bolts thrown by an angry god and I expected the roof to disappear at any moment.

"Did they use plasma cannons on a Cruiser before?" cried Tucker. He held onto the stairway railing so he wouldn't pitch forward, down the stairs.

Athena left Grif's head and winged around us in a panic. "Nay! Such measures are highly extreme and unlikely!"

Grif pointed out the window where no sunlight came through. A black mass high above us blocked it out like an eclipse. "The Covenant are good at that!"

Green light blasted through the window a split-second before plasma impacted Athena's forcefield outside. She screeched as if in pain. "My generators are nearly overloaded! I cannot take another strike of such magnitude! My protection measures are inadequate! All ye be in danger! I cannot keep them out! My-my-processors are dis-disrupted! I can-can-cannot fun-fun-func-function!"

Her owl avatar had shifted colors, from white-blue to purple, to deep red. I tried grabbing her to hold her still, but my fingers went through her hologram, "Athena, listen to me, please!"

She screeched again, but fixed wild amber eyes on me.

"Focus on helping Church. Help him find what he's looking for—"

"_My __forcefield!_"

"It's done its job! We have to protect ourselves now, and you have to make sure your data doesn't get into Covenant control. You are the supervisor here. Fulfill your purpose the best way you can right now!"

She wheeled around in circles, screeching and hooting frantically. The Cruiser above us rained down another bombardment of plasma energy. An ear-splitting sound filled my ears, like that of shattering glass, followed by a high-pitched whine.

"_It__ is __BROKEEEEN!_" Athena shrieked. Her hologram broke apart into a million grains of red sand, and vanished.

Grif's radio crackled, "Red-Three, get Starath here on the double!"

She was gone. Not a trace. Had she gone mad? Was she completely destroyed? But she was so beautiful, and kind, even if she was—

Someone had me by the back of the neck, pushing me forward, "MOVE, Star!"

"What the— Grif!" I tried wrestling away, but he wouldn't let go. I was forcibly marched back to the computer room. "Let me GO!"

When he did, the momentum of the march almost made me run slap-bang into Simmons. He caught me before we could make contact. My nose brushed his chestplate, though. It was no longer maroon, but a sooty black. "What happened to you?"

"The AI got me with one of her forcefields." Simmons turned me around, "Sarge has the armor ready for you."

Church still stood beside the computer terminal. He didn't move when we approached. He wasn't even tensed up like norm… oh. He still must be inside the computer system.

"Red-Three, get back to the stairwell. Christine, I need your attention _right__ here!_" shouted Sarge.

"Er… sorry." J.J's body was nowhere to be seen. What had they done with it? ...Did I want to know? Pieces of armor plating had been laid out in neat rows at my feet. I eyed the helmet while excitement and anxiety swirled around in my guts. Was I going to wear that too?

"Strip down so we can get this on you."

My mouth hung open, "Excuse me, Sarge?"

He looked at me and ducked his head, "Ah, habitual procedures an' all. Never mind. It'll probably fit better with yer clothes still on."

I folded my arms, "I damn well better hope so."

First came the boots. Simmons helped me balance while Sarge tightened them around my feet.

"How's that feel?" he asked.

"Okay, I guess."

"Loose at all?"

I wiggled my toes. "No Sir."

"Good." He slipped kneepads around my legs. The shin-guards clicked into place on top of the boots and kneepads. Already the weight was noticeable. My sprained ankle didn't appreciate the boot, but at least it would help support the injury. Sarge encased my thighs with the next set or armor plates.

"Are you sure I'm going to be able to move properly?" I asked warily.

"I stripped out all the tech equipment Jameson had with his armor. It might not be comfortable but that's not the point. You need as much protection as we can give you. Ready for the chestplate, Red-Two?"

"Almost, Sir," He shoved something onto my butt, which made me squeak.

Sarge untied my plasma pistol from the length of cord and let it hit the floor. He attached the armor that went around my hips and in front. He stood up, holding the chestplate with one hand. "Red-Two has to slide the power pack onto your back first. It'll be heavy. Try to relax as much as you can and let the weight settle around you."

Distant gunfire erupted one floor below us, and a grenade went off. I looked at him. Relax? Right…

Whether I was ready for it or not, the chestplate and back plating was put on my body. I held my arms up so they could attach the plating together around my ribs. I tried to keep my breathing even, but my racing adrenaline went up another notch when I realized how tight and heavy the armor was. It felt like a lead apron I had to wear last time I visited the dentist, only it was molded all the way around me. Sarge pushed on the chestplate, _hard_.

I gasped. "Hey! My boobs are flat enough already, thanks!"

He shoved again and something snapped together. He chuckled, "Nonsense. If you felt that little tap, you're just fine."

Next came the gloves. Simmons tried putting the right one on too fast and the glove scrapped over the blister on the bottom of my palm. "Ouch! Watch it!"

Simmons stopped to look, turning my hand over to see. "When did you get that?"

"It's from the plasma pistol."

"Why did you use it to the point of overheating?"

"I had to! I was attacked by a monster rat thing in the caves!"

Sarge ripped a piece off the bottom of my shirt that was still exposed. "Wrap it up, fast. We've gotta get outta here."

A pale white light suddenly appeared in the room, behind me, "I was about to say the same thing, guys." Church's voice said.

"What's the situation?" asked Sarge. He'd finished putting on the left glove and was now attaching the forearm guards and elbow pads. He slipped my Jackal shield generator over the top of the forearm guard; it actually fit better now with the gear.

"Not good." Church said, "Athena's a mess, but she helped me track down the data. It's in a back-up database located in the sub-basement of the building by some special rock that blocks out electronic transmissions. I found it via a hard line, but you've gotta get down there and yank the data crystals yourselves."

"What about you?" I asked twisting my head to see him, I couldn't turn far enough to do so with the heavy armor on. I wobbled when Simmons slapped on the shoulder guards at the same time Sarge did.

"Athena needs to be erased and terminated, but the plasma attack overloaded more than just her forcefield generators. I have to destroy her myself. You guys go without me. I'll meet you at the database."

"Destroy her?" Sarge and Simmons had finally stepped back. I tried moving, but had to think about every motion before I could do it. I felt like a robot but I managed to face Church— the _real_ Church— a glowing white AI who chose his avatar to be a Spartan. "Do you have to?"

He nodded, "It's the Cole Protocol, Star."

"But—"

"There's no other way."

Tears trickled down my cheeks. I went to wipe them and bashed myself in the face with a heavy gauntlet. I struggled to breathe properly; this damn armor and a flood of emotions constricted my chest. I stomped down onto the floor, making a satisfying, loud _THUD_ when I did so. "That's not fair! Can't I see her again?"

"There isn't enough of her to see." Church made a gesture, as though his hologram could sigh. "I'm the controlling AI in the mainframe now."

I sagged and silently willed the armor to crush me. Athena was gone? Forever? I'd barely known her for an hour, but she was… special to me already. Compared to the other AIs I knew— Church, Delta, Cortana and O'Malley, she was different. She was more than an AI. She took care of me. When tears came down I didn't bother to wipe them away.

"She can still see you, Star, she says don't grieve. She's okay with this."

I took in a shaky breath and nodded.

"Will you be back for your, ah, body, Blue-One?" asked Sarge.

"I doubt it. Grab my weapons. I'll meet up with you guys later, somehow. Good luck."

Church vanished and I lumbered towards the entryway, wishing I was anywhere else but this blasted computer room. We were almost done, right? We just had to get the data and get out. I focused on the empty doorway, forcing myself to walk in a steady, consistent rhythm. My body resisted its armored casing, fighting to move within it, until it learned where the joints were.

"Missy, you're forgetting somethin'."

"What?" I snapped, and grabbed the doorjamb, already breathing hard. Turning around was a chore; this was meant for a Marine to wear, not me! What good was it for me to be protected if I could hardly move? Sarge presented me with J.J's helmet. I stared into its coal-colored faceplate, frowning. The final piece, if I wore this was I just like them? Or would I become a fraud? My mind wrestled with elation and reluctance. Did I deserve this, after everything that's happened today? Was I strong enough to be like the guys? I reached for the helmet, and paused, my hand hanging in mid-air.

"What if…?" I trailed off.

Sarge gave the helmet to me with a smile in his voice, "It'd be a shame for it to go to waste."

"But I'm not…." I started.

"That doesn't matter." Simmons came up behind his commander carrying a sniper rifle and a handgun. "You're one of us."

I swallowed and inhaled as deeply as the armor would allow. Pushing back my hair, I slipped the helmet on. It clicked into place and hissed as it sealed tightly around my neck. At first there was a black screen before my eyes. Then the HUD display warmed up. Blue text scrolled across the faceplate:

_[Initializing…]_

_[Checking power… green]_

_[Checking COMS… green]_

_[Checking support systems… green]_

_[Let's ROCK.]_

* * *

_To be Continued…_


	10. Chapter 9

The Mission

A Record

By Starath

**Chapter 9**

* * *

My breath was loud and too close to my ears. My heart sounded like it was banging against the chestplate. The display cleared, like a window. Sarge's image stood out sharper and clearer than he had a moment before.

"Everything okay in there, Missy?" he asked tapping the helmet.

"Yeah." An amplified woman's voice— my voice— answered him. Did I really sound like that? "Whoa."

"I wish we could give you a warm-up session but Red-Four and the Blues are on their way up here with Covenant on their heels. Here." He handed me the handgun. "Slap that on your hip holster. You get Church's rifle."

I fumbled with the handgun until it slipped into a slot at my thigh and reached out to take sniper rifle. It was much heavier than it looked and I nearly dropped it. Geez. Was I… really going to do this?

"You'll be able to listen in on our radios too. All set?"

"Well—"

"No time like the present, Starath! We'll look after you, but ya gotta do yer best to keep up! You read me, soldier?"

Oh God. Yes. I was doing this. It was happening. I was wearing armor, like them, and there were aliens downstairs, and we had to get out and… I was blocking the door! I hurried to the side to let Simmons and Sarge by, nearly falling over in the process. I righted myself— or, rather, the armor seemed to do it for me.

"Sir, yes Sir!" I yelled, and felt ridiculous. Did I actually say that? Oh my God! But-but-but, this was real! Holy shit, after everything-!

I glanced skyward, only I couldn't do that wearing the helmet very well. _Watch __out __for __me, __J.J. __I__'__ll__ put __your__ suit__ to__ good__ use.__ I__ promise._

When we got to the stairwell, Doc had joined Tucker and Grif at the landing. A floor below, the heavy pounding of boots slammed on each step leading to our level. Amid the gunfire I could hear excited chatter of Grunts and a bellow from an Elite. Donut's helmet popped into view, ten feet straight down. His normally fluid movements were slow and labored.

"I'm not gunna make it, Caboose, I'll cover you!"

Grif tossed a grenade down the stairwell, "Don't be stupid! You're almost up—whoa!" He suddenly ducked.

Donut, literally, came flying up the stairs as if someone had thrown him. He snagged the railing and landed in top of it with a painful, "Ooof!"

Doc and Tucker grabbed onto his head and shoulders in time to pull him onto the floor before he could fall. Doc dragged him around the corner, out of range of incoming plasma blasts. "Donut, how are those ribs?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure they're broken by now!"

Grif fired his rifle. "Caboose, get up he—" For the second time in less than a minute he had to duck again, "What the—!"

Caboose thundered up and vaulted onto the landing where we were gathered. I felt the impact he made clear into my bones. He rocked backward, bumped against the railing, and regained balance in a fraction of a second. If I hadn't been wearing this helmet, I might not have been able to see what he just did.

"Fast enough for you?" he asked Grif.

"Jesus, don't _do__ that!_"

"Heh. Mister Sergeant!" Caboose snapped off a salute with his right hand, knocking himself in the helmet with his rifle. "We made it! I don't see Chur…" He trailed off, staring at me. The ODST's armor made me a few inches taller but it was still hard to see over Simmons' shoulder. He and Sarge had kept me behind them. "Who's that?" His head tilted like a confused puppy.

Everyone else paused to look at me too, and I wish I could see their faces! Damn... Oh well. "It's just me, guys." I said, and wondered about my own words. Was I 'just' myself, suited up like this?

"Starry?"

"That's affirmative," Oh geez! My voice sounded so cool when I said that! Eee!

The next thing I knew I was trapped in a giant bear-hug from Caboose that lifted me off the ground. "Starath! I am so happy to see you! You've gotten taller! And heavier too!" My armor creaked. Holy CRAP_._ How strong _was __he?_ He set me down like he'd just picked up a big cup of coffee. "Are you ready to kick alien butt?"

"Uh huh…" I wheezed.

He bumped his helmet's visor against mine; something I'd seen him do to his teammates when he was very pleased. It made my brain slosh around in my skull. "Great! This'll be such fun!"

Fun? Running around in armor killing aliens while trying not to die is _fun?_

"Easy there, Blue-Three." Sarge snapped his fingers in front of Caboose's faceplate to get his attention. "She can't fight like us very well. But tell you what, you wanna be her battle-buddy?"

"Oh, absolutely!" He bounced on his toes a bit.

…Battle-buddy?

"You can count on me, Sergeant! I can keep her safe!"

"I know you can, soldier. That's what we'll all do, but—"

"Hate to break up the reunion," cried Grif, firing off a round of bullets down the stairs "But here they coooooome!"

A flood of frenzied chatter wafted up the stairwell, along with the clatter of hoofed feet. Shards of purple glass zipped up and buried themselves into the ceiling. They shattered seconds later, spilling sharp projectiles onto the Blood Gulch crew. Tucker and Grif tossed a pair of grenades and hustled away from the stairs. A panicked scream came from downstairs.

The explosion cut off a collective cry of alarm, then,

KA-BOOM!

Before I realized it, Caboose had me by the elbow and dragged me after Sarge, Donut and Tucker as they ran back the way we came. Grif, Doc and Simmons provided cover fire.

"Caboose! Stop pulling me!" If I was going to be a part of this team the least I could do was run on my own.

He let go, thankfully, but my body had to pick up the pace now without his help. I managed a loping run that probably made me look like a gorilla. Man, I'm going to be so sore after this… We stopped at the closed doors of an elevator. Or, rather, everyone else stopped but me. I ended up running past it due to sheer momentum before I could come to a stop. I turned myself around in time to hear Sarge issuing orders.

"Red-Four, Blue-Two, you ride this thing to the bottom. When you get there give me the green light if it's clear and render it inoperable so them got-durned aliens can't get a free ride. The rest of us will jump the elevator shaft. Go!"

My mouth gaped open. Donut and Tucker nodded and took the elevator down. I was surprised it could hold their combined weight, but also… "We're going to _jump_ down the elevator shaft, Sarge?"

He growled, "If that makes you nervous you're just gonna have to bite the bullet. I don't issue orders twice."

"Er…Sorry, Sir."

Caboose suddenly slapped a hand onto my helmet, forcing me into a crouch. A bright green ball of plasma whizzed overhead, "Don't worry, I know you can do it!"

That made one of us. I was more worried about what the impact would do to my sprained ankle. Caboose and Sarge tucked themselves against the wall, firing their rifles at a crowd of Grunts who had made it up the stairway. Doc, Grif and Simmons kept them pinned down as they backed up to our position. I did the only thing I could do— try not to get shot. Whenever I looked at a Grunt my helmet's HUD zoomed in on it, giving me targeting information. Wow, cool. How did it know what I was looking at? What else could…

What was that timer for? It read _4:00_…_3:59_…_3:58_…

"Uh, guys? What's that?" I asked hesitantly.

Sarge reloaded his shotgun with fluid movements. "Church started the detonation countdown. And we have a green light! Which one of you knuckleheads wants to go first?"

Five male voices cried "Not it!" in unison and they looked at me.

I held both hands up, shaking my head. "Oh no, I'm not going first. What detonation? Did you guys bring Andy with you?"

"Of course not! He talks too much for a stealth mission. And the 'not it' methodology is not to be argued, Missy. Down you go."

"I can't believe—no! I don't know how to jump that far!" I scooted backward and started to fall on my backside.

Sarge forced the elevator doors open and grabbed my shoulder. "It's easy! You just fall!"

He shoved me into a black hole. I screamed in panic when there was no floor to stand on. "Ooooh my Goooooood!"

My HUD helpfully told me that there was approximately 35 feet between me and the top of the elevator lift. I flailed out, trying to right myself, and grab something, anythi— my fingers brushed a straight metal cable. Less than 25 feet left. I snagged the cable, but couldn't hold on hard enough to stop my fall. Sparks flew from my armor gloves where they contacted the cable. Still falling too fast! Oh God, oh God at this rate I was going to squish into—

_THUMP._

My knees buckled. I folded up like a dropped lawn chair, cracking my chestplate against the kneepads. The jolt snapped my teeth together. I sat down hard and squeezed my eyes shut to block out the piercing bolts of light that zinged across my vision.

"Down here, Star!"

Shaking my head in a futile effort to clear it, I looked down. Donut waved at me from an open hatch in the ceiling…or, floor? Whatever. I dragged myself to it and slid through without a second thought. After that drop, what was another eight feet?

Donut caught me before I could land on my ass again. "Lost the 'not it' methodology, huh?"

I nodded and staggered upright. Donut patted me on the back and made sure I was headed for the open doors of the elevator. "Don't worry, happens to me all the time."

Worried? At this point, me, _worried?_ Now why the HELL would I be worried?

Oh yeah. The countdown timer on my HUD now read _2:53._

The sub-basement tunnel hadn't changed any since the first time I was here. It was still dark, wet, and somewhere I _didn__'__t_ want to be. My helmet's polarized qualities shifted so I could see something other than oppressive darkness. Determined to get focused, I examined the cables and piping in the ceiling. Fascinating. Really.

"You okay?" Tucker wiggled his hand in front of my faceplate. In the elevator shaft, several thumps came one after the other.

"I'm just fucking _peachy!_" I snarled, "Give me a gun. I want to shoot something."

"You've got one right there." He motioned to my hip holster, "And there are plenty of Covenant out—"

"No, I want to shoot Sarge! He fucking _threw__me_ down the _elevator__shaft!_"

"Whoa! O-kay…" Tucker backed off, "Maybe now's not the best time to be holding a weapon…"

I struggled to pry off the sniper rifle attached to the slot in my back. "I can't aim worth shit, but maybe I can beat him to death with this!" It wouldn't budge. "God _dammit!_ And could I PLEASE turn this freaking timer OFF? What, is the whole building set to blow? Can I DIE YET? AAARGH!"

"Uh, Grif!" Tucker called to the orange-armored soldier still standing in the elevator, "Come calm your girl down!"

My eyebrow twitched. His… girl…? Since _when?_ Why didn't I have a grenade? I wanted to stick a 'spider' on Tucker and watch it explode. Yes… Exploding Tucker. Watch him go BOOM!

Grif approached me, "Starath…? Are you okay?"

I threw my hands up in an all-out flail, the armor's weight suddenly having no effect on me whatsoever, "YES! I'm fucking FINE!"

"You sound pretty stressed out to me."

"Do I?" Score one for the Oblivious-to-Sarcasm team! "Oh no, I just LOVE screaming at the top of my lungs while using obscenities for FUN!"

"That's more like Church's thing, don't you think?"

I dropped my arms, "You're…not…_helping_…Grif."

"Yeah, I was about to say, swearing a lot would make you sound more like Church." said Caboose from right beside me.

I recoiled out of shock. How did he—? Spinning around, I stomped off, "Whatever!"

There wasn't much to look at down here, except for pipes and cables and everything else I'd already contemplated before, besides the timer that now read _2:01_. Holy shit. We were all going to die. I was stuck, underground, with a military-school rejects who'd learned to shoot straight only a few months ago, while a bomb somewhere was set to go off, and we still had to find the data chips or whatever the hell Church mentioned. No one was even _looking_ for the database thingy yet! What did it even look like? He said he found it through a cable, near rock. Rock? Like the cave I came through?

Luckily I was already walking in the direction I needed to go, I wanted to keep the Blood Gulch crew _behind_ me.

"This is fun! Where are we going?" If I hadn't been wearing the ODST armor I would have jumped out of my skin. A few paces behind me…stood Caboose.

"Don't DO that! And go away!"

He shook his head and had the nerve to shake a finger at me, "Battle-buddies don't leave each other alone. That is bad. Mister Sergeant trusted me to keep you safe, and that is what I will do."

"You can keep me safe by standing aaaaalll the way over there." I pointed to the other end of the tunnel.

"Sorry, that only worked for Church once… uh, twice. But only because he asked nicely, and he had a bigger gun."

I growled at him.

"So, where are we going?"

Fine. I was stuck with him, "We're going to find the database for everyone, since they seem to be preoccupied with other things."

"Yeah… shooting aliens tends to do that." He sighed softly, as if saddened by the thought.

I scanned the ceiling one more time. We were almost to the end of the tunnel and I could see the hole I'd crawled through from before. There, a bundle of cables branched away from the main lines running along the ceiling. My HUD traced the lines in the near-darkness for me so I wouldn't strain my eyes. They came to the corner where the tunnel wall met the ceiling and stopped. Just, stopped. I ran my hand along the wall as high up as I could reach. Nothing but concrete. Right? My boot accidentally slipped through the hole in the wall. I yanked it out, breaking off a piece of the wall with it.

Wait… My HUD magnified the cracks surrounding the hole; they spread out like a spider's web, but there was this one…It ran straight up after a few inches. Maybe it was the bottom of a door? Kneeling, I grabbed the broken wall and pulled. A chunk of concrete came free suddenly, which made me tumble backward.

"Starry! You alright?" Caboose helped me to stand.

"Fine…" I tapped my chin, or, I meant to, and tapped my helmet instead. "Caboose, I think there's a door here. Its bottom starts near the hole. Think you can get it open?"

He slapped his assault rifle onto his back, "Never hurts to try!"

I got out of his way so he could work. Caboose broke away some concrete and found the straight edge of a panel. Hooking his fingers underneath, he pulled and followed the panel up along a newly exposed seam. He arose, slowly, grunting a bit as he tugged on the panel.

Caboose suddenly whined. "Starry..."

"What?"

"It's biting me!"

"Huh?"

"Can't get… good enough grip. It's biting my fingers!"

"Oh." I stood there, "Uh…"

He braced his right foot against the wall, "There must be a lock or something in here. Can you see it?"

I moved closer to inspect the seam, stretching to do so. Just above his fingers there was a… clip? Yes, a clip held the panel against the wall, and further up a second one was barely visible. "Yeah, there's a clip or hinge. Want me to shoot it?"

"No, that would be dangerous _and_ bad for me. Guh… Okay. If you can help me get this open further I can get it off… owie… fingers…"

Yeeeeeah. Was I going to stick my fingers into the jaws of death like he had? Um, no. I searched for something to use, a flat piece of concrete caught my eye. Grabbing it, I wedged it under the panel door and scooted it up inch by inch. I leaned on it with my full weight to force the panel open. Caboose's whining gave way to a cry of triumph.

"Aha!" His hands disappeared under the panel before the metal and concrete groaned. He heaved and ripped the panel clean off the wall. Caboose dropped it with a hefty _clang._

"Holy crap!" I snagged the rim of the opening before I could fall over, "How strong are you?"

Caboose flapped his hands, flexing them in between trying to blow on them despite having a helmet on, "No one arm wrestles with me anymore. Except the Chief."

"Uh huh…." I peered into the opening. It was a room cut into the rock, the size of a small closet, packed with computer equipment and blinking lights, "We found it!"

"Yay!" He clicked his COM radio on, "Guys! Me an' Starry found the—"

I didn't get to hear the rest of what he said, "Hig-gig-GURK!"

A flash of white blinded me, then I felt a sensation of someone pouring chilled mercury into my brain. It seeped into every crevasse, pore, muscle and nerve that I had. My body jerked and moved by itself in reaction to the sensation. Okay. Something was NOT. RIGHT. HERE!

"_What __the__— __Star?__"_ A male voice in my head asked. My body turned its hands over without my orders, and looked itself over as if confused, _"__Oh__ well__… __at__ least __I __can__'__t __get __lost __in__ here __like __Caboose__'__s __mind.__"_

What. The _fuck._ There was a voice… IN. MY. HEAD! I'm not supposed to have voices in my head! At least not now! That's it. I must have cracked. This whole mission adventure snapped my weak mind in half and—

"_No no no! Starath. It's okay. It's me, Church. I kinda… uh, possessed you."_

Church?

…seriously?

"_Yeah,__sorry.__ I__ couldn__'__t__ stand__ being __locked__ in __that __room __anymore._"

I don't want him—you—in my head! Un-possess me!

"_Um, actually, this arrangement can work, Star. I can help you through the rest of this." _

I don't care. OUT. NOW!

He sighed, _"__Look,__I__ know__ this__ is__ odd__—"_

Of COURSE this is odd! A grown man is in my head!

"_Hey, at least I'm your friend."_

I'M the only one supposed to be in my head, friend or not! Out!

Somehow I felt him making himself comfortable, _"__You __can __trust __me, __Star.__ Calm__ down,__ I__'__ll __just __ride __along __in__ your __armor __and__ help __you__ do __stuff.__"_

My teeth ground together, "I don't WANT to calm down; I want you out of my head!"

His voice took over mine, "Well tough shit. I'm staying whether you like it or not."

It was then when I realized I was surrounded by the Blood Gulch crew. Simmons was busy working in the closet. Six helmets turned in my direction.

"Starry… Are you feeling okay?" asked Caboose.

"No, I'm not! Because there's—"

"—It's okay everyone," Church said aloud and with _my_ mouth (how did his voice come from me?), "It's just me. Star's freaking out a little—"

"A little?" I screeched, "A _little?_ That's the fucking understatement of the century! If you weren't already dead I'd—"

"Technically I'm not dead. And all this screaming isn't good for your blood pressure—"

"Would you STOP INTERRUPTING ME?"

"…Uh… Sorry?"

"Starry…Did you eat Church?" asked Caboose, scratching the top of his helmet.

"ARGH!" I banged my hand against my faceplate in a failed attempt to face-palm. An awkward silence dropped across the tunnel's atmosphere like a dead animal. I stared at the palm of my glove, panting, this was SO screwed up.

"_Yeah,__ but__ on __the __other __hand, __we__'__ve __successfully __confused__ everybody._"

Oh, ha, ha. Somehow I just wasn't in the mood to see humor.

Doc came forward, "I know what this is. You picked up Church, didn't you?"

If I had had the energy, I would have hugged him, "Uh huh."

He patted my shoulder, "Look at it this way: At least he's a friendly AI."

"_Yeah, see? Listen to Doc."_

You're not helping! To Doc I said, "Yeah, but this is still really weird."

"It takes some getting used to, is all. He'll be able to help you out."

"Can't he live in someone else's armor? I mean, you guys are the soldiers. I'm just the… baggage."

A small white hologram blipped into existence on my right side. His Spartan avatar stood no taller than a Barbie doll. He waved. If my sudden burst of talking to myself didn't have everyone's attention already, Church's appearance sure did. Somehow he spoke through my helmet's speakers. "All the more reason I should be with you. Does anyone other than me notice we have less than thirty seconds before the explosives detonate?"

"Got 'em!" cried Simmons. He came out of the closet holding a pair of glowing data crystal-chips and stashed them away somewhere. Did Mjolnir armor have pockets? "Oh, hey Church, I was wondering where you were."

"Excellent work, Red-Two." said Sarge.

"Um, HELLO?" I shouted, "Something's gunna go BOOM in twenty seconds! Aren't you guys worried?"

"Eh, it's not the first time we've gone through an explosion," said Tucker, as if commenting on the weather.

"Well _I__ haven__'__t!_ We need to get out of here right NOW!"

"Who's got a grenade we can—" Church started to say.

Caboose barreled forward into the rock wall and broke through like he'd run into a sheet of paper, "All clear!" he called from the other side.

"…Or we could do that." said Church with a cough.

"Alright men! Go, go, go!" Sarge waved us into the new Caboose-shaped hole. Church's hologram disappeared when I followed Simmons in. My HUD displayed the final countdown numbers.

_:04_… _:03_… _:02_… _:01_… _0:-_

We tumbled into the cave just before a trio of explosions sounded overhead. The shockwaves travelling through the ground made my armor rattle. As stone trembled around us I nervously glanced at the ceiling. There were no stalactites up there, but who knew if there were any loose boulders ready to come down on our heads. The opening to the tunnel we stood beside moments before crumbled inward with a cascade of concrete and debris.

A cloud of powdered rock blew over us and hung in mid-air before disintegrating onto the floor. Again my faceplate compensated for the lack of light surrounding me. I blinked, focusing on outlines of my friends. Tiny blips of colored light shined from chest, shoulder and knees of their armor. I sagged against the nearest object. It moved. I pulled away and identified what, who it was.

"Sorry Doc." Once again I forced my breathing to even out even though it really didn't want to, "Please… tell me you guys planned that."

"Well…. we planned on getting out," said the medic.

Oh, that was wonderful to know. Typical Blood Gulch crew thinking in action, and exactly _how_ many meetings did they have with Chief about this mission?

"_Uh, __five, __actually.__" _said Church in my head, _"__And__ we __don__'__t __have __pockets, __by__ the __way.__We__ have __compartments __around__ the__ waist.__"_

Pockets. Close enough.

"Who's not dead? Sound off!" barked Sarge.

One by one the guys made it known they weren't dead. They formed a semi-circle around Sarge, but it took too much effort for me at the moment to stand up straight and join the formation. My mind and body were almost funned out, entirely. "So now what?" I asked.

Sarge reloaded his shotgun and looked over all of us, "Seeing as I'm the only team leader with a body, I'll take charge of the rest of this operation. That alright with you, Blue-One?"

Church's hologram faded in and motes of dust flitted through his image to give him a halo, "I can still direct a bit, but yeah. It'll help me stay focused on Star."

"Good." He ratcheted his shotgun and checked the sight on it, "Now all's we gotta do is wander this cave system long enough to get outta—"

"Um, Sir?" I raised my hand as if I was in a classroom out of habit.

"What is it, Missy?"

"This is the way I got into the facility. I can lead us out."

"That's a negative."

My mouth hung open and snapped shut, "What? Why?"

"You are in no position to be leading us anywhere. Who knows what could be around the next bend! There could be Covenant patrolling in here, or worse yet, a homicidal Energizer Bunny!"

"A what?" I blinked and shook my head, "Never mind. Look, I don't want to argue with you, Sir, but—"

"Then you'll pardon me in saying that is precisely what yer doin'!"

"Saaarge!" I stomped my foot, the one with the bad ankle and regretted it at once. My voice cracked. "Come on! I know the way out! Do you honestly want to wander around down here talking to the bats?"

"_Bats?__"_ squawked Grif. His voice cracked, "C'mon, Red-One. I don't wanna be down here long enough to see bats!"

Simmons groaned, "Oh geez, don't start that again."

Oops… bad choice of words. Great, now Grif was going to be paranoid until we found daylight. If Sarge _let_us find daylight that is. What was his problem? He'd been so kick-ass before, now he sounded like he used to be! Dammit, all I wanted was to go home…

"Sarge, if she knows the way out we should go for it," said Church, "Gold Team is waiting on us."

He grumbled to himself, like he tended to do when he wasn't getting his way, "You make a good point, even though you forgot my code name."

"_Oh__ please,_" Church said in my mind, _"__Those__ numbers __are __pointless __anyway. __It__'__s __not __like__ the __enemy __knows __who__'__s __who.__"_

That's what I thought too. Wait, who's Gold Team?

"_I'll tell you later."_

"It makes sense, Sir." said Simmons. The others muttered in agreement, but not very loudly, lest Sarge figure out who agreed the most. It was probably Grif, though. He kept looking around for bats.

"Oh, alright… Guess my life-long dream of cave spelunking and deep-earth fishing will have to wait." Sarge sighed and looked at me, "Missy, you can lead."

A jolt of energy surged through me at the idea, "Awesome!"

"…Behind Red-Two and Blue-Two. They're our scouts."

Damn. I knew there had to be a catch.

"_With Sarge there's ALWAYS a catch."_

I giggled, then covered my mouth. Or I tried to. My gauntlet smacked on my faceplate. Luckily no one could see me blushing.

"But Mister Sergeant! I am supposed to be Starry's Battle-buddy!" said Caboose with a whine.

Church growled in my head, _"__Oh,__ great.__ '__Battle-buddies.__' __That__'__s __fuckin__' __dandy.__"_

"That's why you'll be right behind her, Blue-Three. Maintain contact via TEAMCOM only from here on out. We need as little noise as possible, just in case." Sarge slapped his shotgun into his palm, "Get moving, Missy. We're waitin' on you."

Waiting on…? Oh! Right! Duh, I get to be leader now! Sort of. Church's hologram vanished as I turned to Simmons and Tucker. My radio popped on when I started to speak, "There's only one way out of here. It's… that way." I pointed, "Be careful of the tunnels when you go through them. They're really slick."

They nodded and moved into the darkness where the tunnel was. I started to follow them. Someone tugged on my arm.

"Hey Star?" asked Grif. The display on my HUD displayed a private COM line.

"Yeah?"

"If you see any bats, will you make sure they're gone before I get there?"

My shoulders dropped a few inches. Here was an armored, trained soldier… afraid of bats. Even though I shook my head, a smile crossed my face. "Sure Grif."

He gave me a thumbs up, "Thanks. I got your back, behind Caboose."

Maneuvering through the tunnel was harder than the first time because I was wearing bulky armor. My body had gotten used to moving in it by now, but my motions were still jerky and awkward.

"_You__'__re __doing __fine,__"_ said Church, _"__Sarge__ must __have __done __a__ good __job __stripping__ it __down__ or __you__'__d__ be __having__ more __trouble __with __it._

Yeah, thanks. I was still going to hurt after all this. Two green lights flashed on my HUD. Tucker and Simmons allowed me to enter the huge cavern I'd been in earlier. My helmet's enhanced visual qualities allowed me to see the underground lake clearly in the low light. If I focused on the water's surface I could make out distinguished lumps in the water. I shuddered. More evil monster rat things? What did Athena call them?

"_She__ named__ them __Rattussuchus.__"_ I felt Church moving in my mind, as if he was turning the pages to a book. A memory of the monster rat appeared in my mind's eye, its fur all matted and ugly and gross, staring at me, somehow, with its sightless patches where eyes were supposed to be, "_Damn,__that__'__s__ what __you__ saw__ earlier?__ And __then __fought __off? __What __else__…__?__"_

I felt more page-turning, or whatever he was doing to sort through the memories of my day. He started with the recent events and went backward. He found the first time I talked to Athena. He found the moment of the rock slide, when I was trying to reach Caboose. The forest fire. Screaming 'Go to hell!' at Sarge. The Reds and I being bombarded by the Banshees. Doc wrapping up my ankle in that frigidly cold cloth. When I clung to Donut as he slid down the rope. When Simmons carried me. The Grunt's head exploding in my face. The impact that sprained my ankle. O'Malley's laughter. Church growled and slammed the metaphorical book of my memories shut.

"_Damn, Star. I'm sorry about all this. I'm gonna fucking stab O'Malley when we get back."_

You and me both. But, hey, I've lived this long. Don't worry about it.

"_Yeah, you've done very well, considering the situations you've been in. But still. This is not the place for you."_

That's what Sarge said, he scared me with that speech he gave after Simmons found me. Thank God he found me…

"_Sarge__ was __worried __when __he __talked __to __me __about __you.__ All __this __time __we __just __wanted __to __see __you __safe, __and __look__ at __what __you__'__ve __gone__ through.__"_ Church sighed. _"__Hey,__ why __is __there __a__ hamster__ in __here?__"_

Hamster?

Oh. In my mind I saw Church standing next to a glass cage full of wood shavings. He leaned down to peer into the top. Little dishes of food pellets were stashed in the corner, next to a water bottle that hung over the lip of the cage. Blue plastic tubes rested on one side. They were missing pieces of plastic where the tubes had been chewed on. In the middle of the cage a metal wheel turned furiously as a little orange and white hamster ran full speed without going anywhere.

Church tapped the glass.

Don't disturb the hamster. It's my mind at work.

"_Oh. What if I did?"_

I'd lose my train of thought.

Instantly Church was no longer in a room lined with doors containing only the hamster cage. He stood on top of a clattering railroad car. Ahead of him an old steam engine chugged and belched smoke, pulling its infinitely long line of cars as it barreled down railroad tracks leading nowhere. He lost balance and landed on his behind.

"_What __the __hell?__"_ he shouted, searching for nonexistent hand holds on the railroad car's roof. _"__How__ did __I__ get __up __HERE?__ What __is __this __thing?__"_

The train headed for a tunnel that materialized out of the distance. The train would barely fit through it when it got there. Church seemed to realize this and panicked. _"Star?__ Star?__ Get __me __OFF __this __crazy __thing!_"

Technically it was 'crazy train,' but he was from the future so I couldn't expect him to know that. He dropped off the railroad car when it no longer existed and landed in a hot tub in a backyard at night. Its water churned and bubbled, shifting through a spectrum of blue colors meant to make the hot tub more relaxing. As soon as Church got his bearings he realized he was surrounded by four scantily dressed, busty women. They cooed and scooted in closer to give him their full attention, despite being in his armor, he leaned back and made himself comfortable.

"_Hello__ there __ladies.__You __like __me, __do __ya?__ Oh __yeah...__" _The women giggled, caressing him under the chin and his thick arms while talking nonsense. Out of nowhere a Spartan in black armor marched up to the hot tub. Church gulped. _"__Tex?__"_

She stopped at the hot tub's rim and socked him across the jaw line of his helmet. _"__You __animal!__"_

"_Ow! What the f—"_

Church was back in the mostly empty room lined with doors containing only the hamster cage. The metal wheel squeaked a few times. He shook water off his armor, dumbfounded. I've mentioned I have a big imagination, right?

"_God damn, Star! Don't fuck with me like that! What was Tex doing in here?"_

I dunno. I thought she might like to visit. On the outside, I struggled not to burst out laughing.

"Which way now, Starath?" Simmons asked, his voice brought me back to the real world. Screwing with Church had only lasted a few seconds.

"_That__ was __NOT __funny,__"_ he grumbled.

Yes it was. For me, anyway. Now as for the way out of here…

"_Oh __really?__" _ Church went to one of the many doors in the hamster room and opened it. A million books lined shelves of a library that had no end to its dimensions. He pulled on a string to click on a light bulb overhead. He scanned the books in a recently used batch and selected a book with an orange cover. He opened it with great care and began reading, _"__What__'__s __this?__ Star__ has __a __crush__ on__ Dexter __Grif?__"_

I gurgled and stumbled as I walked past Simmons. No I don't!

"_Yes you do. It says right here: 'Out of all of them, I think I like Grif best. He has the cutest smile when he's happy, and it feels good when he hugs me. He's not as wound up as the others, but rather mellow, when he's not hiding from Sarge or freaking out over bats. It's so dumb he's afraid of bats, but it's so loveable—'"_

Oh my God, Church! I DON'T like him! Stoppit!

He turned to the next page, "_Aww.__ You__ wanted __to__ kiss__ him __earlier__ today!__"_

I did not!

"_But__ you __didn__'__t.__ Why__ not?__ He__ would__ have __liked__ it, even if he is the big brother type. __Ooo!__"_ He poked his finger onto the page and read aloud in a high-pitched voice, _"'__Sometimes __he __has__ this __way __of__ looking__ at__ me__ that__ makes__ the __backs__ of__ my__ knees __tickle.__ I__ can__'__t__ help __but __notice __how__ his __muscles __move __under __his __shirt__…' __Wow,__ Starath!__ You__'__ve__ got__ the__ hots __for __Grif! __If __only __he __knew__…" _ Church laughed, paused and glanced up and around, _"__Why__'__s __it__ so __warm__ in__ here__ suddenly?_"

Oh gee I WONDER WHY. My movements had been paralyzed for the long half-moment it had taken Church to read that. The images the words conjured made my insides turn into pudding, like Grif in his favorite, tight, T-shirt- ARGH!You are such an asshole, Church!

"_What can I say? I stick with what I know. Want me to read more? I thought I saw a chapter in here about dreams…"_

Want me to put you on that train again?

He snapped the book shut, _"__No.__"_

Then shut up and let me get us out of here. It's not like it matters anyway if I like Grif, which I DON'T, because I don't think he'd care.

"_Oh? Want me to tell him?"_

"Nooooooo!" I said aloud, and clamped my mouth shut when Tucker and Simmons looked at me, "Uh… Er…. Sorry, I was just thinking to myself. Sort of. The way out isn't over here, it's, uh…" I pranced forward, ignoring the heavy _thuds _of my heart against my ribcage. Okay, _think_. When I came into this insanely creepy cavern the last time, where was I?

Church found a map on the bookshelf and took it out of the library with him. He unrolled it and laid it flat on the table next to the hamster cage. He attempted to make sense of the mess of squiggles, X-marks, and pencil sketches of pretty rock formations I'd seen earlier. The cavern we were in was marked with a crayon drawing of a lake labeled 'Spooky Lake of Doom: Beware of monsters.' He scratched the top of his helmet. _"__Uh__…"_

He couldn't read my map properly, of course. My hamster saw it and began adding details to it with each turn of the running wheel. That's right! There was that puddle I stepped in, and I skirted the cavern wall at least halfway before I found the other tunnel…

Somehow Church had known I wanted to speak and opened a COM line. "Keep an eye on that lake, you guys. That's where the rat-monster must have come from." I warned the others.

"Rat-monster?" asked Tucker, sounding confused. Nevertheless he heeded my warning and swept the water's surface with his rifle.

"Trust me, you'll know it when you see one. There's no need to get near the shore." For all I knew the monsters could pop out of the water and drag one of us under like a crocodile. Although… Where was the one that attacked me? Was it still loose? I SO did not want to see that thing again!

"_Relax, you've got armor now and it would be outnumbered. Where's that tunnel?"_

That's what I'm trying to figure out. If I could find the puddle again…Aha! I crouched beside it. The ground surrounding it was still wet from the splash I made. Something else pooled near the puddle, something that was thicker than the water and…fluorescent blue?

"Tucker, come here please." I pointed to the blue splatter, "Is that what I think it is?"

He had to only glance at it and bobbed his head, "Grunt blood. Shit."

"There's more over here," said Simmons. Behind us the other soldiers were emerging out of the tunnel into the huge cavern, and somebody let out a long whistle.

"I bet a whole fleet of Pelicans could fit in here! Or Blood Gulch itself!" said Donut, "Oh, look, a swimming pool!"

"Stay away from it!" I said. "Sir, there's evidence Covenant have been through here."

"Well that's just dandy. Stay alert, men. Blue-Three and Red-Three, stay tight on Star."

Caboose and Grif were immediately on either side before Sarge had finished the order. I made an effort to get up out of my crouch but I was too heavy for my muscles to move. "Uh, help?" Two hands in blue and orange easily pulled me to my feet.

Sarge inspected the Grunt blood. "Hmm, somethin' must be killin' the bastards."

"Probably the locals." I said.

"Like bats?" asked Grif.

"No, something bigger." Like the evil rat monster thing from hell. But at least that meant they might be too busy to bother us, and the Covenant would stay clear once they knew about the creatures.

"_We__'__re __not __that __lucky,__"_ said Church. _"__Now__ come __on.__ Which __way?__"_

I planted my foot into the puddle of water and peered across the expanse of the cavern, looking for a darker place in the rock compared to the rest. Escorted by Grif and Caboose, I followed cavern wall, brushing my hands over the surface. I wish I could have felt the stone this time, but my fingers didn't miss the break in the wall. Was it…? Yes, because my sweatshirt had snagged on that protrusion of rock on my way out. It scared the crap out of me.

"_Don__'__t__ use __your __radio __to __tell __them.__ We __do __this.__"_ A tiny green light flicked on in my HUD. _"__That__'__s__ the__ '__go __a head__' __signal.__ Stay __put__ until __you__ get __a __green__ light __from__ the__ scouts.__"_

Tucker and Simmons slipped through the crack and disappeared into darkness. Red and teal-colored lights allowed me to track where they were by watching their legs. I focused on them to keep my eyes from wandering into the huge cavern where monsters made by my imagination could leap out at me from the dark. The lake, although calm, reflected the lights made by everyone's armor and created ghosts on nearby rock. Nothing reached the ceiling, as high as it was, just black on thick black, oppressive, filled with tiny red eyes staring at m—

"_Whoa,__whoa. __Don__'__t__ go __scaring__ yourself.__" _Church interrupted my thoughts, _"__We__'__re__ all __here __with __you.__You__'__re __safe.__"_

I squeezed my eyes shut and felt water collecting there. You have _no__ idea_ how hard it was coming through the first time. I jumped at my own shadow on a regular basis, and all I had here was my shield, water dripping, and—

"_That was then, this is now. Keep your mind in the present."_

The present. Right. My eyes drifted over the lake and squinted at the lumps. Were they… logs? Underground? No, there was something glistening like… wet… skin… The shapes snapped into focus.

Dead bodies. Dead bodies of Grunts! An Elite! Oh God, dead things were in here. Bile jumped into my throat, eager to come out. No! I was wearing a helmet now! Oh God. I'm gonna be sick. Dead… things… floating! I whimpered and started to cry. That could be us. That could be me. That could be-

"_Listen to me, Christine. That is NOT going to happen to us, you hear me? We're going to get out of this. We're going to go home. We're going to kick O'Malley's ass, and then we're going to watch Transformers. Or whatever! Don't torment yourself with 'what ifs.' Focus. We're counting on you to direct us out of these caves. Sarge gave you that duty."_

Shaky breaths rattled in my ears. That's right, Sarge wasn't going to let me do this but then he let me anyway. I have to be useful now. I can't be scared.

"_Oh, shit yeah, you can be scared. Just... Don't let it control you, okay?"_

Two green lights flashed once on my HUD. I glanced up at Caboose and Grif. They nodded and let me go ahead. I'll be okay. We'll be okay. I have the best guys with me in the whole world, even if they're idiots sometimes.

"_Heeey...__"_ Church grumbled.

Loveable idiots, and the best damned soldiers I'd ever met.

"_Booyah! You got that right, sister!"_

* * *

_To be Continued…_


	11. Chapter 10

The Mission

A Record

By Starath

**Chapter 10**

* * *

Church's cry of agreement settled my nerves, the beating of my heart slowed to its appropriate rate and I took a deep breath. He was right, for once. I was safe, protected by my armor and eight friends who were trained soldiers.

"_What__ do __you __mean,__ '__for __once__'__?__" _demanded Church, _"__Of __COURSE __I__'__m __right. __I__'__m__ always__ right.__"_

I sighed audibly, grinning beneath my helmet. Two green dots lit up on my HUD, the 'all is clear' from the scouts. Skirting another pool of Grunt blood, I was escorted through the fissure leading out of the huge cavern with Caboose going first and Grif followed behind me. Our footsteps echoed in the tight space and came back to us, sounding like quiet pattering raindrops on a cold spring morning. Behind us, the rest of the Blood Gulch crew added their footsteps to the tunnel's echoes and we sounded like a coming storm.

Caboose stepped to the side when we emerged from the tunnel. Simmons and Tucker were a few paces ahead, crouched on either side of a giant stalagmite. Tucker's gestures pointed me toward a nearby stalagmite, he pressed his hand toward the ground, palm down.

"_He __means __you __need __to __get __behind__ there __for __cover, __crouched __down __if __you __can.__" _said Church, and he briefly took control of my eyes, sweeping them across the cavern we were in now. _"__I__ don__'__t__ like__ the__ looks__ of__ this__ place__ either.__"_

I blinked and held my eyes shut, would you please not do that Church?

"_Oh,__ sorry.__"_ He sounded sheepish.

Opening my eyes, I moved behind a pillar of white rock since crouching hurt, so I sat down with my back against the stalagmite. Once again Caboose and Grif took position on either side of me as I watched the others take cover too. Alright, so where are we now…?

Church consulted my mental map. _"__You __called__ this __the __Room __of __Pointy __Things. __Hmm...__Catchy. __There __are__ way__ too __many __places __for __things __to __hide __in __here.__"_

Agreed.

This cave wasn't as bad as the giant one we passed through, but it had spooked me enough the first time. Stalactites and stalagmites were plentiful here; they hung from the ceiling like lethal icicles and arose from the floor like growing trees. It was hard to see from one end of the room to the other because of how many there were. Luckily for us, there was a rough path that wound through this Petrified Forest... if I could just remember where it started.

I tried pushing myself off the ground and growled, tapping Grif's arm. "Help me up."

He did so and asked, "Where are you going?"

"I have to investigate the way through here." I motioned in the direction I wanted to go.

"I'm coming with you."

"Me too!" Caboose put in as he nodded.

They probably heard my little nervous laugh through the radio. "Be my guest."

Flanked by orange and blue, I passed through the pillars of rock, darting from one to the other just in case I needed the cover. From what, I tried not to think about. I had the urge to grab the pistol out of the holster on my thigh. The path had to be here somewhere...

"_Does__ it __really __matter __if __we __get __through__ anyway?__"_ asked Church.

True, but making it easier on ourselves wouldn't be a bad thing.

"_I suppose not. Heh, you're doing this part like we're trained to, taking cover and all."_

That's because I've played enough Halo to know taking cover is a good idea. Geez, I wish Master Chief was with us.

"_You__ and __me __both. __But __pay __attention __to __what __you__'__re __doing, __Star.__"_ Church's warning came just in time. My left boot slid forward into a deep depression in the floor. _"__Careful!__ What __did __I__ just __tell __you? __There__'__s __two__ of __us__ in __here __now!__" _

I grabbed a stalagmite and caught myself before I could fall. The ODST armor weight made my arm snap straight as I sagged, gravity winning against human muscle. However, a large hand grabbed my shoulder, pulled me upright and held on until I found balance.

"Falling is a bad thing, Starry." Caboose said as he made sure I was okay. "If you break your head, you won't know how to get us out of here."

"Yes, thank you. I know." I rolled my shoulder and winced. Yet _another_ body part that was going to be angry with me later. I pointed ahead, scooting back from the depression's edge. "I found the way through. All we have to do is take this to the other side."

"Great!" Caboose made some hand gestures that must have meant 'come on over here guys!'

"_Something like that. Let the scouts—"_

An ear-splitting wail abruptly cut Church's words off and immediately my heart rate went into overtime. As the wail repeated I frantically looked for its source. Where was it coming from? I couldn't tell; it bounced off the cave walls and came at us from a dozen directions at once. A high-pitched shrieking followed the horrible sound now. Vaguely I heard Sarge say something about getting to cover, but I couldn't respond. I couldn't even _move._ Where was it coming from? Was it headed for us? Were we-

"_Christine, __MOVE __IT!__"_ cried Church, giving me a mental jolt.

Beside me, Caboose made an impatient noise as his arm went around my waist and lifted me off the ground. "Sorry Starry!"

"Hey- what the…!" Suddenly I was looking at the ground from several feet higher up than I should be, draped over his shoulder.

"You'll be safer here." Caboose deposited me next to Donut and Doc. He and Grif took up position next to Sarge.

"Red-Two! Sit rep!" Barked Sarge, "Where the hell is that coming from?"

"Dunno yet, Sir. Might be coming from down the path; the acoustics in here make it hard to tell."

"Blue-Two?"

"No contact on my radar yet." said Tucker.

The terrified shrieks were now followed by hurried footsteps beating on stone.

"I got contact! Two incoming!" called Grif.

"I have it too!" said Caboose.

Moments later two red dots appeared in the radar display of my HUD, Doc and Donut moved in front of me with weapons ready. My hand slid toward the pistol and rested on its strangely comforting presence.

"_Easy,__"_ said Church. _"__Whatever __it __is__ they__'__ll __take __care__ of __it.__"_

Whatever was out there had to be as scared as I was. From my vantage point I could see down into the pathway. The footsteps were closer now, and… the sliding of something heavy across the smooth floor. Oh God. Not _that_ thing again!

"Get ready men, here it comes!" shouted Sarge.

A dim shape, made visible by the fancy technology in my helmet, popped into view. It was short, with thick flailing forearms and a breathing mask muffling its sharp cries…. Wait, a Grunt?

"_The __hell? __That__'__s __not __what __it __was__—_" Church started, feeling just as confused as I was. The Grunt clambered up out of the path, still screaming, until it came to a halt in front of us. Its already wide, frightened eyes doubled in size as it took in our group.

It made a squeaky _yip_ and said a word that sounded like "Demons!" before it spun around to run away.

A rat-monster suddenly lunged out of the dark.

I screamed.

Church screamed with me, and added a loud, _"__Holy __SHIT!__"_

Everyone else agreed with variations of astonished profanity that were just as loud.

The Grunt didn't live for three more steps. The cave creature snapped at it, cleanly removing the Grunt's upper body in one bite. Fluorescent blue blood sprayed across the ground in an arc. The rest of the body fell with a sickening _thump_, giving us a lovely view of what the inside of a Grunt's body looked like. The rat-monster's matted fur became dyed blue and there was enough light from our helmet mounted flashlights for us to watch it start to eat.

"Uh, Sir?" Simmons sounded like he'd probably shit his pants.

"Permission to puke and pass out?" asked Grif. He wavered a bit.

"Permission to second that request?" Tucker asked, sounding just as queasy.

"Me too!" Donut cried.

"Me five and a half!" Caboose added.

"Ugh…" Sarge shook his head slowly. "Permission denied... but only because there's enough ugly crap to look at here. At least we know there's Covenant in here now."

"Ya think?" Church's voice came through the radio. "What gave you that idea?"

"Ah shuddup."

"What should we do about… you know…" Tucker waved his rifle at the feasting creature, who was now munching away on the Grunt's back end, having discovered the tiny soldier's methane tank was inedible. This time I didn't complain when Church directed my eyes away from the carnage. I would have chimed in about getting permission to puke, but I was… trying not to puke. Doc rubbed my back, for all the good it did. My legs wobbled. I didn't feel so good.

"Put your head between your knees." He advised me. "Think of happy things, like, uh, kittens."

"I need a bigger kitten!" cried Caboose.

"_All__ the__ kittens __in __the __world __couldn__'__t __help __me __un-see __that.__" _Church said, sighing.

"Sir? The… uh, monster thing?" Simmons pointed out.

"We wait until it leaves." said Sarge. He didn't sound so good either. "We're low on ammo and we don't want any Covenant bastards to know we're down here. It hasn't seen us, I think, and if we're lucky maybe it'll eat more of them. Out of our sight."

Agreed. Times a million. But now we had to wait until the rat-thing was gone before we went any further. Luckily my stomach seemed to have decided that throwing up while I was wearing a helmet was a bad idea. I slid into sitting position between Doc and Donut. Doc took the opportunity to check on Donut's injuries while I tried not to watch, I'd seen enough disgusting things today. It'll be a wonder if I manage to sleep at night ever again.

"_Sure__ you __will,__"_ said Church.

Uh huh... I tried routing my mind into thinking about more pleasant things, but it was simply too tired. Now that we weren't moving, all I wanted to do was sleep. The orange and white hamster living in my mind's cage tripped in its running wheel and fell into its bed of wood shavings. Driven by the urge to run while utterly exhausted, the hamster ran around the perimeter of its cage, around and around and around and…

"_Whoa,__ it__'__s __making __me __dizzy.__"_ Church's light blue helmet tilted from side to side as he watched my hamster run for no reason. He turned away from the cage and went to a door he hadn't opened yet. _"__Maybe __I __can __find __something __to __occupy __your __mind__—"_

I recognized the door too late. Wait—

He opened it. He found himself next to a round table that was taller than him by at least ten feet. Sitting at the table, playing cards, were a group of Transformers who were my invisible best friends. Blitzwing and Swindle from the Animated Universe were there, along with Beast Wars Megatron, Generation 1 Megatron and Optimus Prime. Quite a crowd there. I'd warned them about playing against Swindle, though. He never plays fair. But then, most of the Decepticons never do.

Church staggered backward, trying to take in the scene. Dozens of other Transformers sat at a nearby bar. Cheery piano music floated through the room. _"__What __the __fuck__ is __this?__"_

"Hey! Come to play with us?" asked Swindle, eager for more players to… er, swindle.

Blitzwing's Icy face changed places with his Random face and he laughed hysterically. "Don't be silly! How vould he lift ze cards?"

"Nonsense." said Optimus Prime. "Playing cards is the right of all sentient beings, no matter how great or small."

"Oh give it a rest, Prime." grumbled G1 Megatron, taking a swig of energon from his cube.

Church slammed the door shut and leaned against it, panting. He'd just seen the inside of my Transformers Closet, where everything (and everyone) related to Transformers was kept. I'd been a fan of them since I was twelve years old. I probably had about a hundred characters in there, among other things.

"_Christ! Would you LABEL these fucking doors?"_

Why? I know what's in them.

"_Humor me."_

Resting my chin in my palm (which was kind of hard to do because of the helmet and gauntlet) I mentally labeled most of the doors in the room Church was in. I couldn't label them all because even I didn't know what some of them led to. He went to a door next to my endless library of memories. It was labeled "Music Room".

"_There, this should be safe."_

Luckily for him, it was. He entered a room containing a tape deck that sort of looked like G1 Soundwave, only cooler. Cassette tapes lined the walls, hanging by a nail through one of the holes in the cassette. The tapes used most often sat in a messy pile by the tape deck. Church riffled through them. He held one up that read "You're Gonna Go Far, Kid", written in black marker on a piece of tape.

"_Hey, it's my theme song! Sweet!"_

After some fiddling, Church figured out how my tape deck worked. I was too tired to protest. The tape started playing the song it contained. The quality varied, going from garbled to clear, depending on what parts of the song I remembered best. I'd made a CD of music for the guys once when I decided everyone needed a theme song. Church sang along with his slightly off key.

"_With a thousand lies and a good disguise, hit 'em right between the eyes, hit 'em right between the eyes! When you walk away there's nothing more to say, see the lightning in your eyes, see them running for their lives! Heh heh!"_

I always thought this song matched Church after he found out he was an AI. Even if he couldn't hit someone between the eyes if he was standing in front of them.

"_Oh hey, shut up. I'm better than I was, but I STILL say someone fucks with my rifle when I'm not looking."_

Of course. Silly me. Back in the main room, my hamster slowed down in its frantic run to nowhere and started to burrow into the wood shavings for a good sleep. Church must have known without having to look back at the hamster cage.

"_Star, __I__ need __you __to __stay __awake __right __now. __The __rat-thing __from __hell __isn__'__t __gone __yet, __but __this __isn__'__t__ the__ time __to __sleep.__"_ He left the Music Room when his song ended. _"__Are __you __with __me, __Star?__ Come __on,__ are __you?__"_

I yawned loud enough for Doc and Donut to turn and look at me. I shifted position and found that one of my feet had fallen asleep. Well, that was one part down. The rest of my body was ready to follow suit. I had gotten to the point where I was going to break down and cry if I didn't get any sleep soon.

"_I know you're tired, Star, but you've gotta stay awake until we get out of here, okay? Focus on me, if nothing else."_

Wouldn't it be cool if he told me a story?

"_Uh… Sure. Do you want me to do that?"_

There probably wasn't enough time, but the Blood Gulch crew always had some sort of mischief going on. They always had stories to tell.

"_Us? Mischief? Nah…"_

So the time they put Andy the Bomb in my living room wasn't mischief. Right.

"_He__ wanted__ to __meet __you. __And__ it__… __was __pretty __funny __that__ we __left __him__ on __your __couch__…" _Church laughed to himself, then sobered. _"__Damn__ it __sucked__ when __Tex __found __out._" He rubbed the back of his helmet and jerked, as if wincing.

And all those times you've messed with Master Chief wasn't mischief either?

"_Yeeeah__… __that __was __fun.__ Til __we __learned__ he__ doesn__'__t __just__ get __even.__"_ He winced again. _"__He __gets __ahead. __Tell __you __what __Star, __the __next __time__ we __get__ a __brilliant __idea__ like__ stealing __the __Mjolnir __armor __plating __for __protecting__ his __ass, __talk __us __out __of __it.__ Please.__"_

Church's voice faded in and out now. What did he say about peaches? My hamster had curled up, nice and warm, ready to sle…eep…

* * *

_To be Continued…_


	12. Chapter 11

The Mission

A Record

By Starath

**Chapter 11**

* * *

"_Star? Star?"_

"Star? Star?"

Great, now I'm hearing Church in stereo. If I just curl up tighter and tuck my head in... my head bobbed and bumped into my knee. There. The constant tension in my shoulders loosened when I let them droop.

Someone shook me, "Christine, we're moving!"

I inhaled sharply and opened my eyes, it was like lifting the Iron Curtain... that was made of lead and other really heavy things, "Son of a bitch!" I snarled, and yanked my arm away.

Doc snapped his hand back as if I had bitten him. "Hey, it's okay. You must be tired. Do you want one of us to carry you out of here?" A pause, "Star? Can you hear me?" My brain struggled to comprehend what he was saying. Groggy, my hamster stumbled out of its wood shavings as if drunk and struggled to pull itself back onto its running wheel, paw by paw.

"How ya doin there, Missy?" Sarge asked leaning over, "Are you gunna make it?"

"Think…so…" I shook my head and reached up, expecting to run my fingers through my hair and bonking into my helmet. The sharp _rap_ startled me into further wakefulness and the hamster hopped onto its running wheel, jarred by the sound. My vision cleared up and I realized Sarge was crouched right in front of me. I nodded, "I'm here. Physically anyway."

"That's more than Grif manages sometimes."

"Red-One, I'm concerned." Doc spoke up, "She's clearly worn out from everything she's done today, on top of being injured. I'm not sure she should be allowed to move on her own."

The meaning of his words registered with such clarity that I was trying to stand up before I remembered leaving the ground. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Sarge helped me up.

"Donut and I can help you if you need it," said Doc. "You're near absolute exhaustion. You don't need to push yourself."

Church's glowing white hologram suddenly appeared beside me. The light he made hurt my eyes. "Yeah, she is. I'd feel better if you guys helped her."

"Church!" I cried, raising my hand to block his light out.

"What?"

"I'm _fine._"

"No you're not. I'm IN your freaking head, girl. You could barely put two thoughts together a moment ago."

"That's because I was half asleep."

"More like three-quarters. Or four quarters."

"Whatever, I don't care." I planted both feet and looked Sarge in the eye, or rather, in the visor. "I'm awake now."

"It's not safe for you to keep pushing yourself like this." said Doc, reaching for me. I batted him away.

"Listen to the medic, Star." Church said. I wanted to swat him like a mosquito. In fact... what the hell? I tried to, but my hand went right through him. Stupid hologram.

"I. Don't. Care. I can do this. You guys carried me around when I got here like a dead weight before. Now I'm all suited up in a dead soldier's armor who didn't live long enough to complete a mission you guys had to finish. I know the way out of these caves better than you do. I'm getting you guys out of here. Period. I'm not being carried, or babied, or whatever. I want to go home, with you guys all in one piece, and THEN I'll sleep, okay?"

Sarge grumbled a bit, yet he nodded after a moment. "If you feel that strongly, then I'll take you at your word. I don't like it, but we can't have you sleepin' on the job right now." He pointed into the dark with his shotgun. "Red-Two and Blue-Two have scouted the path. We go forward for whatever awaits us."

That said, we continued on our great journey through the caves. Hope began blossoming in the back of my mind, that maybe the rest of this would be easy. We were traveling on a constant uphill slope now so we should see daylight soon. Wonderful, glorious daylight! Crystal Athena hadn't understood why I wept over sunlight a few hours ago. I sighed, wishing that I could see her again; she had been so nice to me. Now she's deleted.

In the main room of my mind, Church scoffed and flopped down into a giant beanbag chair I'd imagined for him. _"__Nice, __nothing. __That __A.I. __was__ a __real __bitch, __even __if __she__ was __just __trying __to __do__ her __job.__" _

I ground my teeth together and told Simmons and Tucker which direction to go via hand gestures. We _had_ to be near the surface by now. They nodded and went ahead while I waited between Grif and Caboose. And I refuse to believe such a motherly A.I. was a bitch. She was near rampancy when we got to her. She couldn't help it.

"_Yeah,__ well__…" _He shrugged. _"__I__ probably __shouldn__'__t __tell __you__ this, __but __here__'__s __a __bit __of __reality: __I __learned__ that__ she __killed __the __ODST__ we __found__ in__ her __control __room.__"_

My startled gasp made Grif jump. "Are you okay?" he asked, looking down at me.

I forced myself to swallow. "Yeah. It's… my ankle. It just yelled at me."

"Here." He slipped his arm through mine. "Lean on me to take the weight off."

"Thanks." I didn't need to, but that was beside the point. Now, Athena did _what?_

"_You heard me. She might've done the same thing to Simmons if I hadn't been there to jump into the terminal. She wanted to protect her information that badly. And yeah, she was really bad off by the time we arrived but… She killed a soldier, Star."_

The urge to cry built up in my throat, swelling into a lump the size of a watermelon; I sucked in air and held my breath until the emotion passed. The truth. The truth always sucks. Still… I had J.J.'s armor to protect me now. I've been moving in it long enough where it didn't feel like such a burden anymore. If he hadn't died, I wouldn't have this protection.

Church chuckled, but the sound had no humor in it. _"__I__ suppose __that__'__s __one __way__ to __look__ at__ it.__"_ For the first time, two red signal lights blinked on and Church jumped up. _"__Aw__ crap, __NOW __what?__"_

The Blood Gulch crew shifted anxiously around me. Tucker came out first and Simmons arrived moments later, they hunched next to Sarge. "Sit rep?" Sarge asked grimly.

"A group of Grunts and Jackals are in the next cave over." Tucker said. "I counted eight and four. There's probably an Elite, but I didn't see him."

"They appear to be guarding the exit of the room. They're on alert." said Simmons, "It looks like they were attacked by the cave-rat-monster too. I found the… uh, evidence."

Sarge turned to me. "Missy, you're certain we've got to get through there?"

"Yes, Sir. I remember this part. We passed the pool with the goofy-looking fish."

"Hrrm."

"Your orders, Sir?" asked Simmons.

"I'm thinkin' about it. They don't outnumber us badly, but a firefight in close quarters is not ideal right now. How's your shoulder, Blue-Two?"

"It's been better. Sniper rifle might hurt me some, but I can take it." He rolled his bad shoulder and unslung the sniper rifle.

"What's your status, Red-Four?"

"Still in one piece." Donut said, "But participating in a triathlon is out of the question right now."

"Agreed." Doc nodded, "He's got severe abdominal and chest injuries. There might be seven of us, but we shouldn't take chances. I'm running out of medical supplies."

"Seven?" I repeated. "What am I, sliced bread?"

"I'd eat you up anytime." Tucker said, and he _must_ have been smirking. "Bow chicka bow—" Simmons reached over and smacked the back of his helmet the same time Grif did. "Owwww…"

Sarge ignored the three, "Missy, you aren't exactly trained for combat situations."

"So what? I can shoot straight, if Church's presence doesn't jinx me."

"_Oh__ shut __up!_" He snapped.

I giggled. No one else laughed.

"Right." Sarge sat back on his heels. "If only we had a portable strobe light, turnips and some sandpaper, I could build us a—"

Grif shook his head. "Not again…"

"Perhaps we should be thinking of plausible strategies, Sir?" said Simmons.

"How do you know it wasn't plausible? You didn't let me finish!"

"You forgot the flypaper." said Caboose. "You'd need the REALLY big kind, for catching airplanes."

Church face-palmed in my head, _"__Oh __my __God__…_"

Doc stood up with an aggravated sigh. "I'll be right back. You guys sit tight."

"Hey, wait a minute, what do you think you're doing Blue-Four? Git back here!"

Doc didn't answer the Red leader and disappeared into the dark.

"He's not listening, Sarge." Grif said, he sounded as tired as I felt. "I mean, Red-One."

Caboose, Donut and Grif tucked me behind them. Sarge, Simmons and Tucker arranged themselves on either side of the tunnel entrance. I heard their weapons rattling and ammunition clips sliding into place. My hand moved to my pistol again. We waited.

A loud _CRACK!_ from a pistol made me jump. Had mine gone off? No. It was right here.

_Crack!__ Crack! __Crack! __Crack!_

A bolt of green plasma whizzed through the tunnel. It landed several feet away and fizzled out. Four more pistol shots made me cringe. A frag grenade went off. High-pitched shrieks hurt my ears. Somewhere in there, a Jackal made an angry squawk. My eyes squinted shut to block out bright green flashes. Why was it that whenever I saw green today, something bad was happening? Another grenade explosion made my head ring. Muffled over the sounds of gunfire, Doc's voice came through the radio.

"Oh, too stubborn to die, are you? Here, let me _help!_"

Caboose, Grif and I exchanged glances. "I thought you said O'Malley had moved away from him!" whispered Caboose urgently.

Suddenly, all fighting stopped. Broken rock crunched in the tunnel. Everyone around me tensed and readied their rifles. The little purple lights of Doc's armor appeared out of the gloom. He usually walked with a stoop. When he stood up straight with his shoulders back, he became… intimidating. His pistol spun twice on his finger before he snapped it back into its holster. He rubbed his hands together as if he'd just washed them.

"All clear, guys."

Sarge growled crossing his arms. "Son, would you TELL US before you go an' do that again?"

"O'Malley! You can't move back in here, you didn't pay rent last time!" Caboose cried, hands up in surrender.

Doc shrugged. "Sorry Red-One. And Blue-Three, it's just me. Really."

"You say that, but I know him! He is mean and scary, just like that!"

A shard of blue light behind Doc made me blink. What was it? Its coloration mixed all shades of blue together in a beautiful manner. Something shimmered, almost invisible. The shard became two pointed prongs joined at a curved shape, just like—

"_Aw __FUCK!__"_ Church's hologram flared on, casting a white glow on us all. His panic mixed with my own emotions and I heard him through the radio and in my mind. "MOVE IT DOC! Head's up, we found the Elite!"

Doc threw himself to the floor just as the Elite leapt through the tunnel and landed where he'd been standing. His energy sword would have sliced our medic in half. The alien soldier roared at us in challenge.

The Blood Gulch crew answered the challenge with a hailstorm of ammunition. The Elite made a sound like laughter and swung at the nearest human. Simmons dodged him but the stalagmite he was standing next to was cut down entirely. Grif and Donut shoved me into the farthest corner of the cave.

"Stay here!" ordered Donut.

Yeah, like I was going to join in? How, exactly? I fumbled for my pistol and managed to get a hold of it. I dropped it and a bullet zinged out of the barrel and hit the Elite in the chest. Yes! I contributed to this fight!

Sort of.

Oh shit, did he see me?

"Keep him pinned, men!" hollered Sarge over the gunfire. "Don't let him get too close!"

The Elite jumped again, and he might have wound up on top of Grif if Caboose hadn't rushed forward. The blue soldier plowed into the Elite, knocking him clean off his feet like a football player. Caboose bounced off the Elite's stomach and barely escaped getting sliced by the sword. I could feel the impact the two of them made in my teeth. Holy crap. The Elite got up, howling, but was slowing down now. How much punishment could that thing take?

"_A __whole __hell __of __a__ lot.__"_ said Church. His hologram had disappeared when I'd been thrown out of the way. He moved restlessly in my mind before my radio clicked onto a one-on-one channel. "Goddamn it Caboose! That could have gotten you killed!"

"Sorry!" Caboose breathed heavily. "I'll try to save Gruff from getting squished better next time!"

Church's intense frustration waned a bit. "See that you do, smart ass." Caboose laughed and clicked off the private channel.

Awww. So you DO care for him.

"_He__'__s __one __of __my__ men, __okay?__"_ Church folded his arms and he was probably scowling under his helmet. _"__This __team__ has __enough __undead __members.__"_

I returned my attention to the ongoing battle. For every time they pushed the Elite back, they lost more ground than they gained. The staccato bursts of their BR55's drowned out their shouts. My HUD compensated for the blinding flashes the battle rifles made, but it still hurt to see them go off. I shifted nervously and retrieved my pistol from the floor. Surely seven soldiers could take down one Elite easier than this?

"_It's that damn sword! We aren't Spartans! He keeps getting too close. If they get pushed back any further, they're going to be right on top of us!"_

Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap, oh crap, OH CRAP!

I tried aiming the pistol but the Elite moved around too much and my nerves were a mess. I could hardly stop shaking, let alone aim straight.

"_Hey, settle down. Focus. You've fired it before in practice."_

This isn't practice! THAT's a real honest-to-God alien, one that's trying to kill my friends, and—

The Elite bellowed and ran at the smallest gap between Blood Gulch soldiers. Doc moved fast enough to escape the swinging, glittering blade. Sarge stepped sideways to fill the gap and took a blow to the side. The blue prongs penetrated his armor and came out through his back. My eyes saw this. My mind would not believe it.

"SARGE!" I screamed.

His pained grunt came through the radio. "Got ya right where I want ya! Shotgun to the face, HIYA!"

The cave reverberated with the loud _click-POW_ of Sarge's shotgun. The Elite slumped, dead, and came down on top of him.

"Sonuvabitch NO!" cried Simmons.

"Like HELL you will!" yelled Grif. He and Simmons grabbed the alien's corpse at the last moment and pulled it back.

I flew out of the dark. "Sarge! Sarge!"

"Hey! Whoa whoa whoa!" Donut caught me and forced me to stay still. "It's okay. He's going to be okay."

"No he's NOT!" I wailed. "The sword went right through!"

"I don't think so. Doc will fix him up. He'll be okay." He tried holding my face in both hands, but I wouldn't let him.

"Who are you trying to convince, me or you?"

"_Jesus__ Christine, __calm__ down!__" _Church couldn't keep his footing in the room flooded with fear, grief and fury. The emotions washed him off the floor and slammed him into the many doors lining the walls. _"__It __went__ in-__There__'__s __no __need__—__Fuck__— __Are __you__ even __LISTENING__ TO __ME?__"_

No. No no no no. This was not real. I can't deal with this anymore. I just… Sarge is hurt. Maybe dying. Why wouldn't Donut let me see him? Doesn't he realize what's happened? I SAW IT. This… this… I just… I just can't. Do this. Anymore. It's. Too. Much. Oh God. I can't breathe. Gasps surround my ears. Scream. I'm going to die too. I—can't—Where is the air? I can't—it's not—I choke. Wheeze. Nothing comes in. It's all gone. Air is gone. I'm going to die here. So are they. I can't—where is—my body convulses. Starved. On my knees. A simple thing. Air. Air. Air? AIR! It's not—

A burst of white. "Somebody get her helmet off NOW! She's going into shock!"

Rough hands grab me by the head and twist, something hissed and then there cold black nothing before my eyes. The other voice leaves. Still screaming. Colored lights dance in and out of my vision in the dark. Still gasping. Can't. Wait. Cold. Cold and damp. Breathe. Air. Oh, God. Air. Somebody is holding me tightly. Rubbing my back, resting my chin on his shoulder. Gasp. Breathe. In, out. Tears. Scream. Cry. Enough enoughenoughenoughENOUGH!

A voice by my ear. "I got you Star. I got you. Breathe slowly. In and out. That's right. We're all here. We're all okay. You're okay. Keep breathing. There's more than enough air for you here."

I don't know which one he is. I can't tell in this pitch black world. My lungs begin to stop hurting. My head still pounds, but I don't care. It's hard to get my arms around him, but I do, and cry.

* * *

_To be Continued…._


	13. Chapter 12

The Mission

A Record

By Starath

**Chapter 12**

* * *

A gentle shake woke me up. I opened my eyes, groggy. Or did I? Everything was so dark except for colored lights moving around me. Fireflies? One was right next to my cheek. Orange. When did I fall asleep? Had I passed out? I didn't remember… and suddenly jerked upright.

"Sarge!" I croaked, my voice hoarse. It hurt to speak.

A dark shape moved next to me. Red lights shined from his joints. The lights were my friends! "Hey Missy. Have a good nap?"

I tumbled out of the lap I'd been sleeping in and thumped into him. "Sarge!"

"Ow! Careful there, would you?" He wedged his hand between us and held me away at arm's-length. I grasped his hand tightly, which squeezed back in return.

"You're okay!" I cried, and made sure he had all five fingers.

Sarge made a painful chuckle. "Not really, but close enough. Doc used the last of his supplies patching us together."

"But I saw the sword— it went right through—" Tears found my eyes again as I remembered the sight of what the Elite did and they stung.

"It cut through my armor vertically, on the side. I'll be alright. I've had worse."

I felt for his helmet in the dark and drew a smile on it where I imagined his mouth to be. "I'm so glad."

"How are you feeling?"

"Okay, I guess. I'm not really awake yet."

"Maybe you ought to thank Grif for being your couch. Can't imagine that he was very comfortable, though."

"Grif?" I turned to look at the spot I'd moved from.

"Yo." He waved. Or, I think he waved. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness by now, but there wasn't much to see but the dim outlines of my friends, detailed by their armor's lights.

My face grew warm as I admitted, "He was comfortable. Sorry I fell asleep on you."

"Don't worry about it. I needed the nap too." He reached for something beside him and gave it to me. "Ready to suit up again?"

My hands bumped into something smooth and cool. By now its shape was familiar, wide and oblong; it was my helmet. A vague memory of claustrophobia wafted through my mind and I shivered. Was it real? Did I want to remember it? Probably not. I tucked my hair onto my neck, ignoring the fact that wearing an ODST helmet probably gives me the worst hat hair ever. A trickle of cold air whistled past my armor's collar before I put the helmet on and I shivered again. Wait. This air is moving. I stiffened, sitting up as straight as I could.

"What's up?" asked Grif. Around me, lights in maroon, teal, blue, pink and purple moved closer to us.

"I think…" I tried to get up, but my body felt like it was made of lead. "Whoa."

"Here." Grif and Sarge each took a hand to help me up. I clung on to Grif's tightest.

"Guys, I feel a breeze. Coming from…" I turned slowly, breathing deeply. The moving air tickled my face. "That way!" I pointed.

"Really?" asked Tucker. "But that's not where the cave exit is."

"Who cares?" I put my helmet on and watched the familiar display come online. My voice came through the radio automatically. "I just want to get out of here!" Suddenly I could see everyone again. Their armor looked worn, their postures tired. Sarge's armor was held together with metal strips and… duct tape? Well, whatever works, I suppo—

"Hig-gig-GURK!"

Ice cold mercury filtered through the cracks of my brain again. A familiar presence settled into my body and armor's circuitry.

Oh, hi Church.

"_Hey kid. You feeling alright?"_

Oh yes. Naps work wonders.

"_Glad to hear it. You kind of… freaked out on us."_

I did?

"_Never mind."_

"Everybody set to go?" Sarge asked, sounding as in-charge as ever.

"Sir yes Sir!" I said, and laughed. The guys all looked at me and a few of them chuckled.

Sarge checked his shotgun and slapped it into his palm. "Alright. Red-Two, Blue-Two, you know the drill. Let's get the hell out of here."

As it turned out the breeze originated from a crack in the cave wall. It was just big enough for us to walk through in single-file, although it was easier for me than it was the bigger of the guys of our group. We found another cave at the end of the tunnel, and it was Donut who noticed what was hanging from the ceiling first: Row after row of alien glowworms swayed in the gentle wind coming from outside. They gave off a blue glow that was bright enough to see by without using night vision. I thought they were beautiful, but Sarge said the glowworms picked the wrong color.

Then, finally, we found daylight.

We could barely see it through the cave's mouth as dusk was settling in, turning the sky into a painting made of reds and oranges. It brought tears to my eyes. The glowworms lived at the back of an enormous gash in the rock, where the ground had been shoved upward and broken apart by geological forces. We emerged at the top of a bluff that looked down at the cave floor and a small valley beyond it, outside. I wanted to stand and stare at the view forever, but my curiosity had to be cut short. We took cover in some jagged rocks while Tucker and Simmons went on scouting patrols. Now that we were out of the cave system, we were vulnerable to the hundred or so Covenant swarming the cave opening and valley floor. Apparently having the Geological Research Facility blow up on them wasn't much of a deterrent. Unfortunately for us, our exit point put us in an awkward position.

"We can't leave without someone knowing about it." Sarge said, grumbling as he pointed out the major groups of aliens below. "Gold Team was set to cover us from a planned extraction zone. We're not even close to it."

"Leave that to me." Church said and I felt him moving within my mind, as if he'd suddenly shifted most of his invisible weight elsewhere. Somehow I knew lightning-fast processes were going on but I had no hope of following them. My radio switched on to a long-range channel. "This is Blue Leader calling Gold Team. I know we're late, but you knew we would be. Please respond."

Static buzzed in my ears. Church repeated his message twice. I held my breath. A familiar, male voice answered. "This is Gold Leader aboard Vertigo-One-Three-Five. About time. A situation report and coordinates would be helpful."

Wait. Who is—?

"Affirmative. I'm sending coordinates to your on-board girlfriend. Tell her I say hi."

"You are functioning as an AI?"

It _can__'__t_ be.

"Yeah. Long story. Listen, we're all here, down in this ridiculously deep cave that opens to a small valley. We can't get on top of where we are now. The surrounding territory is pretty high up, but the safest LZ for you guys. We've got two badly injured and a few moderate injuries. Almost depleted ammo. The valley is Covenant-occupied. Count maybe fifty or sixty, plus dropships we probably don't know about. They look to be mining or looking for something in here. Probably pissed we blew up the Geological Facility and ready to skin us alive, too. Yeah. Great fun."

"Cut the commentary, Blue Leader. Do you have the prize?"

Holy crap. Holy. CRAP.

"Damn right we do. Plus one extra we… rescued. Civilian. You can swing by any time now."

"Roger that. Sit tight. We'll see what we can do. Gold Leader out."

Everyone watched me do a hyper, bouncy dance during the whole conversation. I squeaked non- stop, barely able to keep myself in control until the communication was over. "Was that who I think that was?" I blurted out, probably too loudly.

Church's hologram appeared and he nodded. "Yeah. That was Master Chief."

"OHMYGOD AWESOME!" Everyone flinched at my squeal. I stood still and pressed my hands behind my back, staring at the ground. "Sorry," I whispered.

"What are our orders?" Sarge asked, after bopped his palm against his helmet where his ears would be.

"We gotta hurry up and wait until they figure out how to get us." Church said. "Somehow I think this will involve a glory charge."

"Aw crap. I hate those." Grif complained, shuffling his feet.

I didn't particularly like the thought either.

"Considering everything else we've been through, it ought to be a fucking breeze." Tucker said, and turned to Sarge. "By the way, Red-One, we're going to need to clear the way before we can even _think_ of getting out of here. There's a pair of Hunters not even 700 yards down the slope, plus more Jackals and Grunts than I could spit at."

"Could you snipe 'em?"

"Sure, but not fast enough that they won't wonder why their buddies keep falling over dead before I get them too. I've only got two mags worth of ammo anyway."

I started to scratch the back of my head, but stopped. The helmet. Right. I'll remember it's there by the time I have to take it off. I tried reaching the weapon strapped to my back. "What about me and Church's rifle?"

Sarge grunted. "What about you and the rifle?"

"I could sit up somewhere and snipe too."

"Absolutely not."

"Aw come on! Why not?"

"Don't argue with me on this. You aren't a trained soldier and I am not going to put you in a position where you don't have support if something goes wrong."

"Sarge, think about what I've done today. I even look the part, for crying out loud. And I won't be alone. Church is with me."

Come on Church, help me out here!

His holographic image appeared to cough. "Star, think about what you're saying. You're either being brave or stupid, and believe me, there's a fine line there."

Oh, you fucking traitor!

"I can do it. " I insisted. "We're in a secure position even if they do realize we're up here. It's not like they can run up here in a hurry. If I'm somewhere safe, they won't even know where I am. We can pick off the ones no one will notice—"

"Christine. NO." Sarge said firmly.

"Then what do you plan to do, _Sir?_"

"I _plan_ on getting us all out of here in one piece, which may be difficult for you if you keep up the insubordination!"

"Aw, let her do it." said Donut. His voice cracked. He'd been breathing heavily since we stopped to rest.

Sarge spun to face him. "What? Have you lost your marbles?"

"I can't speak for everybody, but I think it's safe to say we're all worn out, Sarge. Star's been through a lot too, but it would be better if she was sniping with Tucker. We can provide cover fire if things go wrong. She can't. If the Covenant attacks, she'd be a sitting duck." He leaned heavily on Doc. "And she's right, Church is with her. Between the two of them, some Covenant should go down easily enough."

I clasped my hands together and waited eagerly. Mental note: Feed Donut the best meal EVER when we get back home. Sarge made his I'm-irritated-and-thinking grumbling noises as he glanced at the other soldiers. "I suppose you knuckleheads have an opinion on this too."

"I'm cool with it." Tucker said, motioning around. "I found enough places to sit up here while I was scouting."

"So did I." Simmons agreed and shrugged. "We'll just have to make sure we can get to her with no trouble if we have to."

"I'm concerned about her ankle, but she seems to be moving fine." Doc said.

Grif had been staring at me. Or at least, I think he was. Maybe he was just staring in my general direction.

"_Maybe__ he__'__s__ thinking__ about __how __much __he __likes __you,__"_ said Church, his hologram nudging me in the side. His amusement mingled with my embarrassment.

Shut up Church! Not now!

"You want to do this?" Grif asked me.

"Yeah."

"You're serious. You understand the risk you're going to take, and you still want to do it?"

"Yes. Of course." Sort of. What was he getting at?

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to do this?"

"Because… because…" I struggled to find words. I had a ton of reasons, really I did. They all wanted to come out of me at the same time and every single one of them seemed equally important. How could I possibly narrow it down? This… this whole day had been one thing after another, always running and having to hide and… I took in a breath, "To contribute. You guys have basically babysat me in the middle of a war. I've either been in the way, missing, needed care, or protection all day. Some sort of worry on top of everything else, I mean. I want to do something other than occupy space. It's my turn. I can be a soldier."

"Do you really think you can?" asked Grif.

"Yes," I said, then added, "Sir."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Good enough for me."

"Hrrr." Sarge sighed and growled at the same time. "Blue-Three? Do I want to know what your opinion is too?"

Caboose's helmet tilted to the side. "Why not?"

I could have hugged him, but I settled for happily squeaking. I stopped when Sarge approached me.

"I don't like this, but seeing as I'm _outnumbered_ by majority vote of _stupidity_, your job is to get up there and take out as many Covenant bastards as you can. Got that, Missy?"

Unable to help myself, I hugged him. "Yes, Sir!"

"Er… right. Go with Tucker and get set up. Any word from Gold Team, Blue-One?"

"Not yet. I'll let you know when I hear from him again." Church sighed. His hologram disappeared. Inside my mind he said, _"__I__ can __feel __your __resolve __for __doing __this, __but __I __don__'__t __like __it __any__ more __than __Sarge __does. __I__'__ll __tell __you __what __to __do, __and__ you__'__d __better __listen __to__ me, __got it?__"_

Yeah, yeah. EEE! Finally I get to do something other than be useless!

"_You haven't been useless, Star."_

Easy for you to say. I started to follow Tucker when Caboose tapped my shoulder.

"Hey, uh, guys?" Caboose started.

"What?" Tucker turned slowly, obviously tired. "Keep your head down, Caboose, or they'll see you."

"I had a thought." said Caboose.

"No, we are not getting a pet flamingo." said Tucker with an impatient sigh.

"Not about that! I wanted to show you something." He crouched behind the nearest boulder and indicated a group of Jackals and Grunts standing with their backs to us. "It's like the math Mister Chief gave me."

"Huh?" It was my turn to tilt my head. I scooted closer to them so I could see over the pointed rocks. He'd been studying line graphs last night. How did he see a relation to them here?

"Sniper bullets go really fast, in a straight line. You can use lines here!"

"What do you mean?" asked Tucker. "There aren't any lines here. Just butt-ugly aliens."

"You are not looking straight."

"What? How could I _not_ be looking straight? I'm not Donut."

Caboose made an irritated sound and spoke as if he were telling this to a young child. "Look at where the bad guys are standing. They move the same way because they are patrolling the same way each time. They walk so they cover area where the others aren't while they're moving."

"What? Dammit, we don't have time for this."

"I know, that is why I am trying to explain this to you!"

"Wait." I said, patting Caboose's arm. He was getting frustrated and a frustrated Caboose was a bad thing for everyone. "You mean they're walking in formation in a predictable pattern, right Caboose?"

"Yes." He said, relieved. "Look what happens when the big bird ones turn around."

I watched the Jackals, counting their steps. Ten paces forward, about face, eight steps back, choreographed with their companions who moved right to left. And at one point— "They line up!" I said.

"Right. And a sniper bullet goes really fast, but you said you don't have a lot of them. If you wait for them to line up together, you get a three-for-one deal! Like crashing airplanes!"

For a moment, Tucker and I just stared at him while Church whistled in my head. _"__Holy __damn. __He__ actually __knows __what __he__'__s __talking __about._"

Of course he does. He's certainly been working hard enough with his lessons!

"_Heh. __Point.__"_ Church's voice came through the radio. "Good work, Caboose. Thanks for the help."

"You are very welcome. Will you need help up, Starry?"

"Uh… probably. What perch did you have in mind for me, Tucker?"

"Well, there's one that I can only show you in bed—" Caboose swatted him the same time I stomped on his foot. He yelped, "Just kidding!"

"I should hope so. This is not the time for sleeping." Caboose pulled on the sniper rifle resting on my back, nearly jolting me off the ground. He held it out for me. "Church will tell you how to use that, but his lines are always crooked."

"_Goddamn it! My lines are just fine!"_

I giggled and mentally patted him on the shoulder. There, there Church. You know we love you.

He turned away with a harrumph. _"__You __could __have__ fooled __me!__"_

* * *

_To be continued…_


	14. Chapter 13

The Mission

A Record

By Starath

**Chapter 13**

* * *

Getting up to the position Tucker found for me was easier said than done. It didn't help that I'm not a very good climber to begin with, weighed down by armor I wasn't used to, on top of not having much upper body strength and being short. Maybe being short doesn't sound like such a bad thing to you, but to Church it was a freaking catastrophe.

"_Oh shut up. I'm used to being a foot taller than you, okay? And stronger. Seriously, how do you reach anything with these short arms and legs?"_

They're called chairs. Or, summoning taller people like Grif. Luckily for me I had all kinds of those people around since the Blood Gulch crew moved in next door. Caboose helped as much as he could, but the climbing was treacherous. Basically, my sniping position was about fifteen feet up on a shelf of rock, nestled against the sloped ceiling. Tucker had taken up a perch across from me on the other side of the cave. He regretted that my place was so far up, but he said it would give me a better vantage point, and I was right next to the other guys if something bad happened.

Like my sprained ankle flaring to life after it had behaved for the last two hours or so. Note to self: Rock climbing is a BAD THING while injured. My right shoulder, strained from my fall in the caves earlier, also began beating out a thumping rhythm. Coupled with the pounding in my head, my body could have formed its own rock band right then.

"_You're telling me! Yowch! How many injuries have you gotten today, girl? OW. Sonuvabitch! How can you even stand this?"_

For some reason Church was feeling the pain more acutely than I was. It wasn't _that_ bad, considering.

"_I don't feel pain in my robot body, Star. I kinda— Owowow— forgot about this part of being human. OW. Dammit!"_

Oh. Well, that explains it. So now I get to listen to my body AND Church complain about some discomfort I've had all day.

"_Discomfort nothing! This hurts!"_

I grabbed the next hand-hold and heaved myself onto the shelf of rock. Caboose slid my sniper rifle next to me, gave me a thumbs-up, and carefully made his way back down. I sat down hard and took some time to catch my breath.

Oh, you think _this_ hurts, Church? You're damn lucky I'm not on my menstrual cycle, pal.

"_...Ew."_

"Star, are you in position?" Tucker said through our private channel.

"Yep. Hang on, I've gotta set up my gun." I checked the magazine display. There were two bullets left inside of it. Okay, so how do I reload this thing?

"_Slide the bolt up and out. Replace the mag. Get it in there tightly or it'll mess up the air pressure. Then pull the bolt back and shove it down to lock it. Make sure your hands aren't anywhere near the bolt when you fire because it'll hurt if it hits you."_

Oh. Okay. Clumsily I went about doing as he instructed. The rifle was so long I had a hard time manipulating it and holding on to it at the same time. Church's impatient emotions disrupted my concentration. My orange and white hamster ran at full speed while I tried focusing on what I was doing.

I checked the display again and it said I had four bullets now. "Great. Got it."

"_You're going to have to be faster than that when we have to reload."_

Give me a break; I've never done this before!

"_Right, sorry."_

"Okay Tuck—um, Blue-Two. Ready when you are."

"Take out your Hunter first. I'll wait until yours drops. Remember, go for the orange."

Orange, like Grif, only bigger and not as shiny like he is. I glanced down at my friends below and immediately wished I hadn't. Heights didn't bother me until I have to get _down_ from them. Aw crap.

"_Come on Star, stay focused!"_

Focused. Right. First to zoom in on my beastie down below.

"_Pop the bipod out from the bottom. It'll make this easier for you so you won't have to hold it steady. There's a night vision key on the side of the scope. It's getting too dark to see without it now."_

Goody. Found it. I rested on my stomach and positioned the scope so I could see the Hunter, now outlined in bright green. Hmm. This made "aim for the orange" a bit rough.

"_They__'__re __vulnerable __in __the __throat __and__ the __belly. __From__ our __position__… __definite __headshot.__ Take__ your __time __to __line__ it __up._"

Okay. This part I was sort of familiar with. Point and shoot, like in my Halo game. Only, if I missed the alien would notice, and if I get killed I can't start over. Whoopie thrill. What a nice thing to think about right now.

"_Star__…"_

Yeah, yeah.

I sighted through the scope and bumped my reticule centimeter by centimeter to line it up. The Hunter was staying still, thankfully, but it bobbed up and down at an irregular pace, looking side to side for trouble. Too bad it had no idea trouble was going to come from above and behind. I counted the bobbing rhythm in case there was a pattern. One, two, one, one, one two. Turn left. Turn right. The open gap at its neck didn't move much. One, two, one, one, one two. One two. One, one. Like my heartbeat with a few skips. My breathing slowed, allowing me to hear my pulse. One, two. One, two. Turn. Turn. Turn. The creature shifted its weight. Dammit!

"_They do that. This isn't your game, Star."_

I know that! ...And don't interrupt my narration!

I repositioned the reticule. My heart thudded in my ears. I could screw up _so_ easily here, but I can't. They're counting on me to do this. I fingered the trigger. One, two, one, one, one two. Turn. Shift. Dammit! Argh. One, two. One, one, one two. One, two, one—NOW!

The loud _CRACK!_ of the sniper rifle startled me. Its recoil kicked my shoulder. The Hunter jolted. Oh no you—

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

I emptied the clip. The second shot zinged off its helmet, but the last two found their mark. The Hunter dropped in a heap.

Inside my mind, Church did a happy hop-skip, _"__Dead-on__ Star! __Nice __job!__"_

I'll celebrate later. Got to reload. I grabbed the next magazine. Two magazines left. Pushed the bolt up, out. Slammed the mag in. Pulled the bolt back. Locked it. Adjusted the scope for a wider range to look for the next target. The patrolling Jackals hadn't noticed their Hunter guardian was dead yet. They'll know as soon as Tucker starts firing. Crap. Need to line them up. I scooted to the right to lean against the cave wall and counted the Jackal's steps. Across the cave, a sniper shot rang out. I saw its vapor trail. The Jackals turned in confused directions. Some still continued moving. Wait… wait—THERE!

CRACK!

Two Jackals fell with the same bullet. A third Jackal stumbled, wounded. I sent my second bullet through his eye socket before his shield came up. HA.

"_Holy fuck! You're good!"_

Next target. Any Elite? Those could rip my friends in half. Not if _I_ can help it. There, one in blue. Damn, he's moving a lot. He saw the Jackals go down. I could hear his "Honk-blarg!" from up here. Shiiit, he's summoning troops. I lined up the reticule. Fired. CRAP, I missed! He started to turn in my direction. Oh crap oh crap-

Another sniper shot whizzed by the image of my scope and nailed the Elite through his open mouth.

"Don't worry girl, I've got you covered." said Tucker. "Nice distraction."

"Thanks…" I exhaled loudly. How long had I held that breath?

One bullet left. Who could I get with it? The Covenant soldiers were scurrying about now. Grunts ran for cover. Jackals searched for the enemy. I saw one come around a piece of machinery.

CRACK!

You're not going to hurt any of MY friends. Have a nice rest. Alright, time to reload.

"_Hey__ Star, __I__'__ve __got __an __incoming __transmission. __Sit __tight __for __a__ minute.__" _I finished replacing the magazine and rested my back against the stone behind me, still half-lying on my stomach. Church's voice transferred to the radio. "Blue Leader here."

"I'm en route to your position with two Pelicans and Marine support. We're going to drop in and give you cover. Agents are already in the field. Wait for the signal before you break cover." Hearing Master Chief's voice made me giddy all over again.

"What's the signal?" asked Church.

"You'll know it when you see it. The extraction point will be twenty degrees west of your position."

"Affirmative. We've stirred them up a bit trying to clear the way before we move. Be advised, we're coming out blind once we leave this cave. It's a long way out."

"Understood. Christine, are you listening?"

I choked. Holy fuck. He's talking to ME! I had to stop sputtering before I could speak. "Uh, yeah?"

"The Agents will find you. Stay with them and do exactly as they say. They will escort you to safety. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir." I swallowed. "Donut and Sarge should get help too. They're hurt really bad. Worse than me."

"I'm aware of that. They will."

How did he…? Okay, ponder about it later. There's something else I've got to know. "Uh, Sir?"

"Yes?"

"How'd you know it was me who had Church?"

There was a slight touch of amusement in his voice. "You were squeaking earlier."

"Oh."

"Get ready for extraction. Good luck."

It was said that Master Chief was the luckiest Spartan of them all. I was glad he shared his luck with us. We're probably going to need it. "You too, Sir."

The radio signal disconnected. I stared at my hands. I had been fiddling with bits of rock without even knowing it. If my face got any redder my visor was going to light up. Holy crap. HOLY CRAP. I think that's the longest conversation I've ever had with him. And now we're gearing up for a glory charge that involved a Spartan, Marines, and a shitload of aliens. After everything I'd seen and done today, this was it. We were going to make it out.

"_Star, we've gotta get down from here. Sarge wants us to regroup."_

Huh? When did you tell him...?

"_While you were contemplating Master Chief's awesomeness and blushing about it. Grab the rifle. Let's go."_

I wasn't… oh, never mind. I peered over the edge of my rock shelf, and my stomach fell into my knees. Uh… about this small matter of getting down…

"_What? What is it?"_

I'm afraid of heights!

"_What?__ Why? __There__'__s __nothing__…"_ The impact of my fear and nausea cut him off. _"__Godammit__… __Han g__on.__"_ My radio blipped on, "Caboose, could you come over here?"

The blue soldier detached from the group below and looked up at me, "Here I am Church! What do you need?"

"Star can't get down by herself. Think you can catch her?"

Catch… her? Wait, what? "I'm not letting him catch me!"

"Sure I can!" said Caboose.

"Great, get ready Caboose." To me he said, "It's the quickest way down. Toss him your rifle."

"But-" I started to protest.

"Don't fucking argue with me. It's an ORDER."

An order, huh? Well, I did want to be a real soldier… I grabbed the butt of the rifle and did as I was told. Caboose caught it and set it aside. He held open his arms like he was going to receive a big hug. Church…. I really, REALLY don't like this.

Church's voice returned to my mind, _"__It__ doesn__'__t __matter. __You __just __have __to __jump __and __fall.__"_

What if I hurt him?

"_Hurt Caboose? Are you fucking kidding me? The guy's a tank. Don't worry about him."_

But what if—

"_Christine, we don't have time for this. Jump or I'll make you do it myself."_

Oh, like that was a comforting thought. I inched to the edge of my perch and slid both feet down. I held on to a nearby rock and whined. It was so. Far. Down. I can't do this.

"_After__ everything__ else __you__'__ve __done __today?__" _His voice reached a sharp pitch._ "__SERIOUSLY?__ Come __on, __it__'__s __just __a__ little __fall!__"_

You are not HELPING!

"_No, but now I'm—"_

"Starry, it's okay!" called Caboose. I could barely see his golden visor in the low light. My night vision flipped on and he turned into a shape of midnight blue. "I'll catch you! Trust me!"

Trust him. Trust him like I have everyone else today. It's not bad. Nothing's going to happen. We're going to be fine. I just have… to… _jump!_ I shoved myself forward and dropped into open air. A squeal of panic came from somewhere inside me. I tried controlling my fall, but I didn't know how. Oh crap, I'm going to hit that outcropping. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap—

_THUMP._

Caboose staggered. "I have you, Starry!" I twisted around and bumped helmets with him. I sobbed and wrapped my arms around his neck. I had to let go when he put me down. "There you are. All safe and sound." I heard the grin in his voice.

"Th… thank you, Caboose."

"No problem! That is what battle buddies are for."

"Hey you two, quit yer yakkin'! Git over here on the DOUBLE!"

"Coming Mister Sergeant!" Caboose retrieved my sniper rifle. "I will give this to Tucker. He will probably want the ammo."

I followed him on shaky feet. Dammit. I feel tired again. I sat down next to Donut, who was checking his battle rifle, probably one last time. Everyone else seemed to be doing the same thing. Oh geez. Here we go.

Sarge approached me, "Do you have a weapon?"

"I had…" Oh wait. Right. "I have my pistol. And my Jackal shield."

"Hmm. Best not use that in the dark. You'll be a walking target. You got enough ammunition?"

"Uh…" I tried checking, but the pistol didn't have a fancy display like the sniper rifle did. "I assume so."

"Let me see." I handed it to him. He checked the ammunition clip and shook his head. "Blue-Four, you got any to spare?"

Doc checked his pockets… compartments, whatever, and tossed a clip to Sarge. "That's all I've got."

He transferred some of the bullets from one clip to the other and gave Doc's clip back to him. "Just so she's got a full set. Now Missy, I've already briefed the others, so I want you to listen up: When we get out there it's gonna be chaos. We'll try to protect you the best we can, but the fact is none of us can predict what's going to happen. Regardless of what you see out there, you've got to keep moving forward. Gold Team's gonna cover us but you might have to make decisions on your own. We'll be there as much as possible. You make sure to get yourself into the Pelican as quickly as you can, understand?"

Once again he hadn't joked or minced words. This time… it didn't really bother me. I nodded and he pressed the pistol's butt into my palm, "Yes, Sir."

"Good. This is the final effort. We'll get home, you just wait an' see."

"I hope so." I looked over my friends, my friends who were soldiers, "I'm…. I'm really proud of you guys. I never would have thought you would be doing this sort of thing when I met you a few months ago. You've all become amazing in different ways." I shrugged, the movement giving me an excuse to pause so they couldn't hear me cry. "I just wanted to—"

The distant rattle of gunfire silenced my words. The Blood Gulch crew tensed and faced the cave's mouth.

Sarge ratcheted his shotgun, "Here we go, fellas!"

I jumped up, gulping. "Are you sure that's the sig—"

A massive explosion lit up the world for a moment. Outside the cave, flying shrapnel blazed like miniature meteors before hitting the ground. The Covenant soldiers squawked in alarm and hurried out to see what was going on.

"_Twenty__ bucks __says __Wash__ did__ it.__"_ muttered Church in the back if my mind.

* * *

_To be continued…_


	15. Chapter 14

The Mission

A Record

By Starath

**Chapter 14**

* * *

"There's our signal!" Sarge shouted as he lifted his shotgun and leapt off the bluff. "Chaaaarge!"

I glanced at the steep drop before us and gripped my pistol tightly. "Um, how are we supposed to—"

"Head's up, Star!" Grif grabbed my arm and pulled me after him. "Hang on tight!"

Yeah, like I was going to let goooooooo-!

I jumped with him, but I think only because Church made me do it. We slid down the slope like we were on a snow hill leading straight into hell. I stumbled over loose rocks and nearly did a face-plant at the bottom. Grif steadied me at the last second while I flailed like a windmill. This was happening way too fast! Around me, the rest of my friends hit the ground running, but some moved more easily than others. I noticed Doc and Simmons flanked Donut. They ran for cover behind some Covenant machinery.

"Clear!" Tucker yelled, he was still acting as scout I guess, and I—

"Come on!" Grif yanked me forward into a lurching run. I tried my best to keep up with him. Ow my ankle. Ow my head. Ow my shoulder. Ow my _everything_! I wanted to hide too, but there was obviously no time for that. Wait—shit—GRUNT! WITH! GUN!

Its head blew up. Oh, ew. I so did not need to see that again!

"Move it!" cried Grif as he pulled me along with him. "We gotta get outta here!"

"Wouldn't you rather surrender?" I asked, my voice approaching a panicked shriek.

"I would if that didn't involve both of us DYING!"

Dying. Right. That's a bad thing.

Church slapped a hand to his helmet. _"__I__'__m__ glad __you __agree, __now__ RUN!__"_

Steeling myself, I went after Grif. Running had never been my strong suit, but it was different to run for the sake of survival. I darted around a boulder, trying to keep Grif in my sights. Geez. Since when could he run this fast? Since when did he move fast at all?

The cave's mouth yawned wider as we approached its boundary to the open sky. I could hear unfamiliar men yelling over the firing of weaponry, both human and Covenant-made. Something to my right had been reduced to a giant lump of molten slag. The Covenant were thoroughly scattered, torn between fighting the Marines who must have been dropped in out of nowhere, and the single-man wrecking crew known as Spartan-117. Wait. No. Other opponents were causing them trouble too. Who-?

"_Pay ATTENTION!"_

My hands snapped up and I shot a Grunt right though the neck before I realized it was in front of me. Its blood splattered against my armor. I wiped the visor off. Thanks Church!

"_Thank me later. Keep up!"_

I was trying, really I was. Already my sides started to feel like they wanted to split apart; I was good at running short distances, nothing more. I gasped. Dammit! I tripped over a smoldering piece of metal, and Church moved my body into a ball. I hit the ground, rolled, and came up running. Someone cried in pain off to my left. I picked out a suit of maroon armor against the bright green flare of a Jackal's shield. Shit! Simmons! His legs were smoking. He's down! I ran toward him.

"_Wait, what- Christine! You can't—"_

I found the button on the side of the shield generator on my arm, slapped my pistol into its holster, jumped, and landed in a crouch in front of Simmons. The Jackal fired its plasma pistol and the burst bounced off my shield, knocking me backward onto Simmons. The returned plasma shot struck the other shield, jolting our enemy too. Simmons brought his battle rifle up and fired it next to my head.

The Jackal died quickly and my ears rang, the gunfire echoing in my mind.

Simmons grunted, attempting to get himself off the ground. "Thanks."

"For the earlier save." I gave him my hand automatically. He grabbed it and I tried pulling him up. "You gunna make it?"

"Think... so...oooww." He let go, unable to get enough leverage from me.

"Crap." He can't get up. If only I were stronger! What do I do?

"_On __it.__"_ Church went to my radio. "Caboose! Get over here!"

"Be there in a minute!" At first I didn't see him coming. Suddenly, a group of Grunts flew out of the way. They didn't run. They didn't fall. They simply _flew_. Caboose plowed through them and skidded to a halt in front of us. "I love bowling! Especially with the small aliens!"

I wanted to laugh. I gurgled. Was it me, or did he enjoy this way too much?

"_It__'__s __not __just __you.__"_ Church laughed for me. "Simmons is injured. Get him out of here."

"I don't need—" Simmons let out an agonized cry as he tried to stand again. Mixed with burning circuitry, I smelled… burnt skin. Oh, God. The armor around Simmons' ankles had been hit badly; not much of it remained. "Godammit!" He cried. "Why NOW?"

Caboose's disposition changed. I could see it in his posture. He ducked a plasma ball and blasted the nearby Jackal into a bloody mess with his rifle. The alien fell. Caboose released the trigger after a futile _click-click-click!_ replaced the clatter of ammunitions fire. He threw his weapon aside. "All empty! You got yours, Simmons?"

"Uh… yeah…" Simmons grabbed his battle rifle beside him.

"Good!" Caboose grabbed him around the torso and heaved him onto his shoulder so Simmons faced backward. "I'll run, you shoot!"

"What the hell?" Simmons yelped, and then probably figured this was the best arrangement possible. He started firing away. "Die you mother-fucking aliens, DIE!"

I started to follow them. A Grunt got in my way. I panicked. Tried to dodge. Its pistol lit up green. Aw crap. What was I—

A second tall figure came out of nowhere and smashed into the tiny soldier, killing it on impact. I squeaked and backed away, trying to identify him. He wore grey armor with yellow detailing.

"Let's GO!" shouted Agent Washington. I took off alongside him, once again trying my best to keep up with a full-fledged Marine. He kept ahead by several paces, clearing the way for me. I wheezed, trying to catch my breath.

"Wash, I don't even… know—" We were out of the cave by now. The valley had turned into a chaotic battleground. From somewhere above, sniper shots nailed fighting Covenant where they stood. I couldn't see any of my friends in this mess. Where were they? Dammit, what a time for a side-ache—!

"Up the ridge!" Wash said. "That Pelican is our ticket out of here. It should be on your HUD."

Like I could pick it out from the swarm of yellow and red dots I can't even pay attention to right now? I followed his gesture up the valley bluff.

"Right!" I managed to say. It was kind of hard to miss up there now that I saw it, but now I had to get to it. I bit my lip. It might as well be a million miles away. My ankle pulsed with every step I took. My legs began weighing a ton each. This is—this is—

"_You're gonna make it, Star, don't think about anything else!"_

I slipped in some mud. Wash grabbed me by the back of my armor and hauled me out of my fall. In the moment's pause I heard something deadly.

_Clank-clank-clank._

Through my shield I saw it. The charging Hunter. "Wash!"

"I see it!" He threw a grenade. It went off at the massive alien's feet, knocking it over. It came up with its fuel rod cannon charged. Wash's battle rifle lit up like short-lived fireworks. I think it laughed as it fired. Luckily, the shot fell short. Unfortunately, its destructive radius enveloped us. My Jackal shield vanished. I left the ground and flew, just like the Grunts had done earlier. My landing was a 12.0 in pain.

Wash swore heavily through the radio. "I've lost Star! Repeat, I've lost Star! Somebody FIND HER!"

My sense of hearing dimmed in and out as the ground tilted. I squeezed my eyes shut and rolled over. The sky, barely tinted red, turned in a slow circle overhead. The stars… the stars were there. How… how nice…

"_Christine?__ Get __up. __Come __on. __You__'__ve __GOT __to __get __up.__ You__'__re __almost __there.__ You__'__re __almost __home.__" _Church paced restlessly in my mind, willing my body to move.

Home? I'm… not sure… I want to… go there… anymore. I'd like to rest. Yeah, rest and stare at the stars…

"_I know you're tired. You can't rest yet. You're in danger here. You're almost to the valley bluff. Come ON, GET UP!"_

I'm scared.

"_I am too, but you gotta—"_

Something stepped close nearby. I turned my head to look. An Elite in red armor stared down at me. He had an energy sword. The threat hardly registered. Elite. With sword. Bad? Bad. BAD!

"_Aw__ fuck, __you __didn__'__t __come __THIS __FAR__—_" Church tried moving my arms and legs. His voice shouted in my ear. _"__MOVE__ IT!__"_

At the same time, he sent out a message. "Somebody help! An Elite is right over us!"

There was no way I could dodge that sword. I stared, fixated on it, until something moved behind the Covenant soldier, something I couldn't see, just a vague outline—

A blue grenade thumped against the Elite's helmet and stayed there. He jerked in surprise. His pupils dilated into thin slits as all four hinged jaws came apart in a panicked roar.

"_Cover__ your __eyes!__"_ Church warned.

I did at the last second. The grenade exploded and the Elite toppled backward, missing its top half. As I gagged, a rough hand dragged me upright. I turned and almost didn't see— A soldier in black armor materialized in front of me.

"Tex!"

"Are you injured? Can you move?" She asked as she gave me a quick once over.

I shook myself. Now that I was standing, everything seemed fine. The landing must have stunned me. Wait. I tasted blood on my lips. Great. "I'm okay."

"Good." Tex met my gaze visor-to-visor. "I'll cover you. Get up the ridge. Don't. Stop. Running. That clear?"

I swallowed and nodded. "Yes ma'am."

Her head bobbed once. "Let's MOVE!"

I've been hearing that phrase a lot lately. Church sighed, _"__Hot __damn.__ I __love __that __woman.__"_

By now the battle had died down. We had more dead bodies to weave through, both Covenant and human. I searched for my friends. No colored armor lay among them. Ten feet away, somebody paralleled our progress with unnatural speed. I caught a glint of hunter-green armor and blinked. Was that really—?

"_Dammit, PAY ATTENTION!"_

I jumped over a Grunt's body instead of tripping on it. My ankle screamed at me. I gasped. Tex leapt up the valley bluff and reached back. "Grab my hand!" I almost didn't catch it. She pulled me up and shoved me in front of her, "Get going!"

"What about—" I tried to say.

She spun around and unleashed a storm of bullets on the Covenant soldiers pursuing us. "Just GO!"

A few feet overhead, another rifle lit up the night. A white gauntlet reached down to me. Its owner was crouched in a little hollow in the wall. "Need a leg up, Miss?" asked a voice with a thick accent.

Holy shit. "Agent Wyoming?"

"Certainly! Didn't think I'd miss this party, did you? This is the most fun I've had in years! Hold on a tick." I heard the pin of a grenade sliding out of place. He threw it. "Incoming!"

The grenade went off, blasting a group of Covenant away from us. Dirt and stone pinged against my armor. Below us, Tex brushed herself off. "Godammit Wyoming! You threw it that close on purpose!"

"Sorry old gel, didn't mean to!" Wyoming laughed and slapped his rifle onto his back before turning his attention to me, "Now let's see about getting you home." Like Tex, he pulled me up and made sure I had good footing before letting me go. He patted me none too gently, on my bad shoulder, but he couldn't have known about that. "Up you go. See you later."

Only Wyoming could be in the middle of a battle situation and still sound like he was having afternoon tea. That made me giggle, but I sobered when I saw the height I had left to scale. So close and yet so far, if I wanted to be terribly cliché.

"_You're almost there. Take it one step at a time. Check your hand-holds carefully."_

Thanks, Dad.

"_Hey, __I__'__m__ not __old __enough __to __be __your __father!__"_ Church protested.

Brother, then?

"_Whatever._"

I climbed, blocking out the shouting, gunfire, explosions and agonized screams from below. If I had been stronger, like a real soldier, I could have run up this slope no problem. But I wasn't. Had the guys had any trouble? I still hadn't seen them since I lost sight of Caboose and Simmons. The jutting rock under my right boot came loose. I leaned on my left and hissed between my teeth, fighting an urge to curse. Aw, to hell with that!

"DAMMIT! I want to go HOME! No more of this insanity! It's just—STUPID! ROCK! I! CAN! DO! THIS! AAAAARGH!" I grabbed the grass at the top of the bluff. Finally. I kicked at the loose rock, digging my toes in for one final push. I inched my other hand up.

Someone took it.

Green. Green armor. As if I weighed nothing, he brought me over the bluff's edge and dropped me lightly to my feet. Maybe to him, I did weigh nothing. I backed up a step, trying to take all of him in. He snagged my arm before I fell off the ledge.

"Careful." He said.

"Uh… uh…" My knees wanted to buckle under me. So. Tired. And like every other time I'd ever seen him, all I could think was, damn he's big and _impressive_. "Private Starath requesting permission to collapse, Sir."

Master Chief's helmet nodded a fraction. "Permission granted. You can do so in the Pelican."

Suddenly I realized we were not twenty feet away from the whining, whistling engines of a Pelican drop ship, "Thank you, Sir." I stumbled for the onramp.

I heard—a chuckle? Then he said, "Agents One and Two, get up here. We're done."

Wait. Did… did that mean…? I faltered. FUCK. MY LEGS. Stay straight, damn you! If I face-plant into the damn ship…

"Hey Star. Take it easy." I started and twisted around. What was it with people and things just suddenly appearing next to me? I focused on his helmet's visor, then his armor color. Agent York took my hand and hefted me up the gangplank. Holy crap. Everybody _was_ here for this party.

I waved at him. "Hi York. Hi Delta. Is it okay if I sleep here?"

"Sure, but you might want to take a seat first."

Sit down. Riiiight. A simple, simple thing. Sitting down. My helmet's night vision blinked off. The cargo bay lights hurt my eyes at first. Then…

"Come sit by me Starry!" called Caboose.

"No way! Don't share space with them Blues! Sit on Grif!" said Sarge.

I wobbled and counted. Seven. All here. Alive.

"_See?__" _Church sounded smug. _ "__And__ you __were __worried.__"_

Grif had removed his helmet early. His messy hair was plastered against his forehead that was smeared with sweat. He grinned at me. The backs of my knees tickled. "What took you?"

"Oh, you know, aliens and stuff. They wanted my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches."

Somebody snorted. Grif frowned. "Really? Maybe you ought to come sit by me for protection."

I didn't sit. I collapsed. Damn, can I take this helmet off now?

"_Go ahead girl, you earned it. We'll lose the direct connection I have with you and your armor, though. See you later."_

Oh, okay. Bye Church.

I twisted my helmet and peeled it off. I threw it on the deck, making a satisfying CLANG. Cool air mixed with the smell of jet fuel, metal and human sweat. Something jumped into the cargo bay, making the Pelican shudder. I blinked. Wyoming's white armor stood out against the night sky. A second thud and Tex was beside him. The third figure made the heaviest sound of them all.

Master Chief held on to a nearby rail. "Vertigo One-Three-Five, take us home."

The intercom above us crackled. "You got it, Sir."

My stomach tried crawling into my boots when we lifted off. I watched the ground move but had to shut my eyes when we leaned hard to the right and rushed into the air. The loud whining of the Pelican's engines amplified threefold. The cargo bay doors creaked and began to close, blocking my view of the horizon of… what was this planet called? I couldn't remember.

"Hey, how are you doing?" asked Grif.

I answered by nuzzling against his side. Hard armor didn't matter right now. My feet dangled off the floor when I sat back.

"Awww…" said Tucker.

Everyone settled into a mutual silence. Then, Caboose shouted, "Yay! We're going home!" Quite a few grumbles replied to his words. "I think this deserves a song." Caboose continued, taking a deep breath.

"Son, don't you even _think __about_—" Sarge started but he was too late.

"Roses are reeed, and violets are bluuuuueee…"

Grif shifted when he laughed. "One day we'll cruise down Blood Gulch Avenuuuuue…."

"Grif! Not you too!"

Grif only sang louder with Caboose backing him up. "It's red versus red, and blue versus bluuuue…"

More voices joined in. "It's I against I and me against yooou…"

"Violets are blue, roses are red, living like this we were already deeeeeaad…."

"Aw dangnabbit." Sarge sighed. "What the hell."

"Hop in my car, it don't have any doooOOOOoors…"

I smiled briefly, thinking maybe I heard Wyoming's accent among the voices, aggravating Tex and Wash again. York was definitely singing. He was that sort of guy, after all, which puzzled Delta. I wanted. To listen to it. All. But… it's just…

"It's built like a cat, it lands on all foooOOOoours…"

My hamster and I curled up. We slept.

* * *

_[Mission Concluded.]_

_Stand by for Epilogue…._


	16. Epilogue

The Mission

A Record

By Starath

**EPILOGUE**

* * *

It was weird coming home. All I had to do was step through a glowing green teleporter to return to my own reality— the "real" one— where I haven't been for over a week. It was the same action that had started my adventure. The Blood Gulch crew returned with me and we were greeted by a bitter, icy winter wind that reminded me of the day I left. I'd lost my heavy jacket, gloves and boots that day. Before we left Blood Gulch (where the teleporter was connected to now) I was offered winter gear from practically everybody. I borrowed Grif's jacket. It was almost three sizes too big, but it was warm.

We received a surprise when we came back. Standing by the door to "Red Base" was a tall figure almost obscured by the blowing snow. I recognized him by the color of his armor. "Hi Lopez!"

Unlike the rest of us, the cold didn't bother him very much. With the help of York and Delta, Lopez's voice processor had been repaired so he could speak English. He still had a thick Spanish accent, and it took him a few weeks to remember that everyone could understand what he was saying. Meaning, no more sarcastic comments no one could understand anymore. Before York's arrival I had tried learning Spanish so I could talk to him. I hadn't been very good at it but I think he appreciated the effort I made.

"Welcome home." He said as I hobbled over to him for a hug. It was a gesture he hadn't understood when I first met him. I think he got used to it after the first dozen times or so. He stepped back, "You are injured?"

"Just a sprain." I assured him.

"Hey Lopez!" hollered Sarge above the wind. "I trust you kept the base ship-shape?"

He sighed and sounded exasperated while speaking in monotone at the same time. It gave him the impression that he might be rolling his eyes sarcastically, if he had any under his helmet.

"Si. I did not play checkers with the vacuum all week."

"Heh heh. Good ol' Lopez. I knew we could count on you. We made it back all in one piece, as you can see! Mission successful!"

"I am so very glad." He didn't _sound_ glad, but then he was speaking to Sarge. "Starath, there is something you should see."

"Oh?"

"Regarding O'Malley."

Hearing the name brought a chill to the back of my neck. Fury arose from my core and boiled beneath the surface of my smiling face. "Did you catch him? York mentioned it when I saw him the other day."

"We did. Come, I'll show you."

Most of the Reds and Blues ran inside for warmth and shelter. Church stayed with us as the winter cold didn't bother him either. His relaxed body language had tensed at O'Malley's name too. We followed Lopez to the far side of the long building to the space between "Red Base" and "Blue Base", where their trashcans were kept. Sitting beside a trashcan was— I squeaked in alarm and hid behind Church.

"What is it?" He demanded, and saw it too. "SonuvaBITCH!" Church automatically reached for a weapon and then probably remembered he wasn't carrying one right now.

"There is no need for alarm." said Lopez. He nudged the body with his boot. "It is restrained."

O'Malley's…. _body_ sat there, leaning against the building. It was tied up around the hands and feet. The helmet wasn't there, though. I carefully peered into the opening of the black and red armor. It was hollow inside. "Where's O'Malley?"

"Here." Lopez lifted the lid to a trashcan.

An aggravated, nasty voice echoed from the bottom. "At _last_, daylight! Hello? I happen to be down here, oh helpful fool— I mean helpful human friend!"

We looked down into the trashcan. O'Malley's cheerful pleas turned on a dime. "Well, if it isn't the robot minion and his cute little friends! I see you made it home, Starath. What a pity that is! But then perhaps I shall have the fun of destroying you TWICE! Mwahaha!"

I kicked the side of the can. It rattled and silenced him. "Do you do have any idea what I WENT THROUGH because of you?"

"Not in the slightest my dear, but I do hope it was dreadful!"

Church kicked it too. He dented it and sent it slamming into the wall. "Shut. The fuck. UP. You had NO RIGHT to do what you did, asshole!"

"Oh, boo hoo! Let me guess, you had to babysit her? I hope she caused plenty of interruptions to your precious mission. Did you get to watch?"

"Watch? No, I didn't just _watch_ it, I experienced it WITH her! And you know what? I want to know _why_ you felt the need to send a civilian into enemy territory in another fucking REALITY. Why don't you enlighten me, O'Malley?" Church crossed his arms and growled.

"Now why would I do that?"

"Consider how much leverage you have between right now and garbage day, when they bring in the big truck with the TRASH COMPACTOR."

"…." O'Malley grumbled, and then chuckled evilly. "It merely seemed like a good idea at the time."

Church and I exchanged glances. Lopez just shook his head. "You are surprised by this?"

"Seriously?" said Church, his voice cracking. "SERIOUSLY?"

"Yes! That is the truth! Besides, we shouldn't even be here anyway! All you soldiers are so smitten with this girl, and that is the reason you stay. It's absolutely repulsive!"

My face turned red. I hid it in the coat sleeves that went well past my hands. "That's not a good enough reason! They care for me like brothers. It's not anything more than that!"

"It's all the same to me! Death and destruction is what this universe needs more of! Along with burning buildings and telemarketer lists that would contain everyone's phone number in the entire WORLD! Mwahahahaha-!"

Lopez slammed the lid shut, blocking out O'Malley's overdone, stereotypical evil laughter. I felt sick and wobbled. He'd done it just for the sake of putting me in danger, nothing more.

"Thank you Lopez." I managed to say.

"My pleasure."

"What a sick fuck. I gotta find a way to delete him." Church said as he let me grab his arm so I could steady myself.

"Hey! Hey, you pathetic fools! Are you listening to me? HeeelllOOOoooo! Let me out of here! It's dark and smells like gym socks that thaw and freeze every day! Something is wiggling in here!"

Lopez yanked the trashcan open. "Not so fun just being an immobile head, _is __it_? I hope you like it in there!" He replaced the lid, muffling O'Malley's response.

"Of COURSE I don't like it! Get me out of here! Hey! Hey? I promise to be good for a whole day! Or three days! I'll make you an "Evil-Free" three-day pass! A week? I'm feeling generous, how about a month? Hello? Is anybody listening out there?"

No, we weren't.

* * *

_**One month later**_

The oven let out a shrill, one-note beep and I paused the episode of Darkwing Duck we were watching and got off the couch. Caboose bounced up and beat me into the kitchen. "Oven's done, Starry!"

I giggled and limped after him. My ankle had gotten better, but it still hurt once and awhile. Helping Caboose make cookies required a lot of patience and mobility. By the time I came around the corner, he was already pulling the last batch of peanut butter chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. He closed the oven door and hurried to the kitchen table, where he slid the hot cookie sheet onto a potholder.

"Mmm, these smell as good as the first bunch!" Caboose said.

"They do." I agreed, easing myself into a chair. "Please turn the oven off now that we're done."

"Okay."

The aroma of freshly baked cookies settled into my mouth. Peanut butter and chocolate make one of the best scent combinations ever. I poked at one of the cookies with the corner of my spatula. It was still too soft to safely scrape off without ruining it. I looked over the cookies that were already laid out in neat rows on top of wax paper and some newspaper.

"Hey Caboose, want to do a taste test?" I asked.

Curiously, he shook his head. "Nope."

"Why not? It's baker's privilege. We have to make sure we made them right."

"We followed the directions, so why wouldn't they?"

"It's a joke. One cookie wouldn't hurt."

"It would if you're… uh…" He scratched at his blonde hair while still wearing the oven mitt. "Saving space for something important…"

"Like what?"

"Something important!"

By now Caboose had learned that he had a tendency to give away things without meaning to. He used to simply blurt them out of nervousness. He still wasn't very good at keeping secrets, but it was harder to get him to say what they were. Caboose been telling me to 'save space for something important' all day. He almost had a fit when I had a tuna sandwich earlier. Obviously there was some sort of surprise I wasn't supposed to know about in store for me today. That was somewhat worrisome when I considered that the whole Blood Gulch crew might be in on it.

"Alright, I won't taste one." I said, testing the same cookie I had before. It was solid now. I shoved the spatula under the cookie and pried it off. "Could you find me a big container under the counter? We'll bring about half the batch over to Blue Base."

Caboose opened the cupboard door and was attacked by a cascade of loose plastic containers, he sat down so hard the chair I was in jolted. "Ahh! They're after me!"

"Beat em back into order! Kidnap the Boss Container!" I cried, laughing.

"Aha! I have you now!" He yanked it out, sending all the smaller containers inside scooting across the floor. "Noo! Please don't run away!"

"Don't worry, they won't get far. I'll take the Boss."

Caboose handed me the square Tupperware and went about shoving the others back into the cupboard. The speed he stacked them back together was kind of amazing. I lined the bottom of my box with wax paper and filled it with cookies, thirty-two in total. If the Reds and Blues shared (which was somewhat unlikely) everybody should have four cookies each. Wait…. Church can't have any. Oh well. Hopefully it won't make him grumpy. I sealed the lid shut the same time Caboose finished putting all the containers back.

"Alright, there you go. Make sure everybody gets one."

Caboose stood up, dusting off his jeans. "Why don't you come and give them to everybody? You haven't seen most of the others for a few weeks."

Here we go. I figured he'd say that. Luckily I was already wearing my purple sweatshirt. I preferred the color blue in my wardrobe, but I tried not to play favorites. I pushed myself out of my chair, "I guess I can do that. I'll get my coat." Well, technically it was Grif's coat.

"Great! I'll get mine too. Want a piggy-back ride across the street, Starry?"

"Why not?" I laughed. "It'll make me feel taller."

The snow crunched under Caboose's heavy footfalls and our breath came out as transparent white puffballs in the cold, still air. I squinted against the bright winter sun, reflected off the snow, it made daylight stronger than usual. Caboose carried me like a small backpack that didn't give him any bother at all. Instead of going to Blue Base's door, though, he went around to the back to the shared garage. Caboose's footprints merged with an already worn trail leading to the side door. He hefted me to one side long enough to open it.

"We're here!" He called and stepped inside.

I had no idea how they'd built the garage. The smell of oil and rusting metal seeped into my nose. Two Warthogs were parked by the garage door. Snow caked the tread of their tires. Some spare weaponry was usually kept in a tidy pile by the back corner. Sarge's workshop, kept in immaculate order, had all his tools and gadgets put away in their precise places. His workbench actually shined. My favorite part of the garage was the long strip of masking tape that divided the floor exactly in half. The words "Red" and "Blue" were written in big letters on the concrete with black paint. At one time that boundary was a sacred "Do Not Cross" zone. Now the boundary had become nothing more than a joke between friends. Today several benches laden with… food? Sat on top of the line. The Reds, Blues, and two Freelancers waved.

"Hi Star!" called Donut, grinning.

"Surprise!" The others said in unison.

I hid my face against Caboose's shoulder. Wow, didn't see this coming. "We brought dessert guys!" I said as he deposited me on a bench between Grif and York.

"Um… hi," I said, suddenly embarrassed. I dropped the box of cookies onto the table and glanced at everyone. They looked so… _happy_. I shook myself. Geez! Why was I so shy right now? I had something important to do. "Everybody needs hugs!"

A few of them snickered when Grif got the first hug. He happened to be the first one, okay? York was wearing his eye patch today. He looked like a modern-day, handsome pirate with a military haircut.

"Hi York. Is Delta here too?"

A pedestal the size of a dinner plate lit up next to York and Delta's green hologram nodded. "Indeed, I am. It is good to see you, Starath."

"Likewise, D." I hugged York and pretended to give Delta a high-five. It was our way of hugging.

"As if I'd go anywhere without him," said York, winking. "He would get lonely otherwise."

"Loneliness is a human tendency." said Delta, and then appeared to shrug. "I would more likely become bored."

York chuckled, "Of course."

"Besides, I predict that more interesting and noteworthy things are to occur when—"

"That's enough, D." York shushed him and gave me a mischievous smile.

I returned the smile and went to the others. I was careful with Donut and Sarge, their wounds had healed enough for them to resume daily life, but it didn't feel like it was that long ago when they were injured. Tucker was one of the last ones who got their hugs. I stopped a few feet away and folded my arms.

"What's the delay?" He asked and grinned at me.

I _hated_ it when he had that grin. "You promise not to pinch me or do anything else that warrants a slap to the face?"

"Maybe." The grin widened.

I frowned. "I think I like you better with your helmet on."

"Nuh uh. Then you can't tell where I'm looking." I growled at him. "Aw, c'mon Star. I won't do anything. Really. Grif would hurt me if I did."

I glanced back at the Red soldier and I caught him glaring at Tucker before he ducked his head. Well, everyone was watching, and everyone had to get a hug no matter what. I had my principles. But that didn't mean I couldn't make it quick. I thumped into him and started to let go. Before I knew how it happened, Tucker picked me up and spun in a circle. I squeaked in alarm until he set me down.

"There. Was that so bad?"

I wanted to kick him in the shin, but I was too dizzy to aim properly. I stumbled in the direction of Church and Tex. Surprisingly, Tex came to me first. Like Church she lived in a suit of armor permanently, and so they were the only two "in uniform" right now. She wasn't a very huggable person though. I had a great deal of respect for her since she was so strong, skilled, and had the magical ability to put up with Church for long periods of time. She was awesome. My inner little girl wanted to be just like her some day.

"Hey, I have a question." Tex said quietly, by my ear. She hugged me first for a cover, I think.

"What?"

"What's this about Church in a hot tub with a bunch of girls? He apologized like an idiot over it a few weeks ago. Do I have to hurt him?"

I laughed and squeezed her around the waist. "No," I whispered. "I was just messing with him."

"Good." She let go.

Last but not least was Church. He hated hugs, which is why I always gave him the biggest ones before he could escape. Sometimes this was easier said than done, but this time he didn't try and dodge me. He just sighed, patted my head, and said, "You can let go of me now."

I did. "So what's all this about?"

"Well… We… meaning, all of us, thought we'd throw a celebration for our first big mission together and for the fact that you ended up coming with us, and y'know, lived."

"Because living is a good thing?"

"Yeah. That or something similar to being alive."

"That's really nice of you guys."

"Nice might have somethin' to do with it," Sarge said, "But now we're waitin' on you, Missy."

"What for?" I looked around at all of them.

"For you to sit down so we can eat! Donut won't bring the main course out here, otherwise!"

"It's just appropriate manners!" said Donut with hands on his hips. He was wearing a "Kiss the Cook" apron over his lightish-red shirt.

I hurried to my spot between Grif and York. "Sorry, I didn't know!"

"That's okay Star." said Donut. One of these days I'll figure out how he manages to sound so cheerful all the time. "Okie dokie! Doc, my fellow cooking man, let's bring out the food!"

A cry of "Woo hoo!" reached the garage's ceiling.

The table was cleared of most of the snacks lying out. Donut's talent for cooking came through to our benefit. We had enough salad, pot roast, steak, chicken, potatoes and carrots to feed a small army. I suppose in some ways I really _was_ with a small army. I watched Church and Tex at the far end of the benches. It was probably awkward to see others eating around them, but maybe that was why they were staying so close together today. Tex hadn't even punched him yet.

A food fight might have started if Sarge hadn't threatened to say "Drop and give me infinity!" to anyone who became involved. This was a good thing, because the last food fight I'd been anywhere near had me washing mashed potatoes out of my hair for days.

By the time we were finished, I was stuffed. I gave Grif the last of my steak. I had no idea where he was putting everything he'd inhaled in the last thirty minutes. Simmons, who was sitting across from us, tried making fun of him for it.

"Dude, look who's talking." Grif rolled his eyes. "You had a chocolate pie for lunch one day. Not just a slice. The whole damn _pie._"

I looked at Simmons with a gaping mouth. The guy was as tall and skinny as a streetlight pole. Where could he put a whole pie?

"I was hungry!" protested Simmons. "We'd been training since five AM, give me a break."

"See? Think twice before you call the pot and kettle black."

"That's 'The pot calling the kettle black', dumbass."

"Whatever. The point still stands."

"You guys work really hard." I interjected before Simmons could retort. "So naturally you'll have big appetites. You've gotta get your fuel from somewhere. Right York?"

Quite possibly he'd eaten more than them both of them today. He doused his massive salad with the rest of the ranch dressing. Delta wasn't used to seeing so many humans eat in one place before. He was fascinated. "Right," said York before chowing down.

"Although I am curious to know where it all goes," said Delta.

"Ditto." I nodded.

" 'Ditto'? I am not familiar with the term."

He was being honest, but the way Grif and Simmons looked at us made me spit out some milk. "It means I agree with you."

When the meal ended the peanut butter chocolate chip cookies were passed around. We tried getting Simmons to share some of his chocolate pie, but to no avail. Conversation lingered on, as it tends to do, until a mutual silence fell across the room. I realized all I could hear was the space heater running while I was nibbling on my last cookie.

At the front end of the table, Caboose and Donut had dragged Church out of his seat. He protested with a great deal of profanity involved. "Why do _I_ gotta be the one to do it?" he snapped, trying to get away from them.

Caboose shoved him in my direction. "Because you're the perfect one! You were there!"

"Of course I was there, but—"

"Don't be shy! Go on!" Donut dropped a small box into his hand.

"But it was YOUR idea! And don't touch me there!"

…. What was going on now? Did I want to know? My nibbling went faster. I probably looked like a hamster, or maybe the one in my head was showing through. I glanced at Grif, in his brightly colored Hawaiian shirt. He wore it to celebrate, but also to piss off Sarge, who hated to see it in the dead of winter. Grif shrugged and grinned at me. It wasn't the same grin Tucker had, but close enough to be annoying. It also made my insides turn into pudding.

Church screeched to a halt in front of me. He coughed dryly. "Uh… hi."

I eyed the box. "Hi. What's up?"

"Yeah… the box." He coughed again. "Since I was so KINDLY volunteered for this honor, I guess I'll get it over with."

"Is it that bad?"

"Well… no, but, it's just…" He fumbled for words. "Look, I'm not so good at this kind of thing, but I'll try to say what we're all thinking anyway. Star, we all feel really bad that you ended up going with us on our mission. It sucked. Sometimes it was really bad. You went through a lot by yourself, and you went through more while I was with you. While you were with us. And you could have just given up, but you didn't. You tried. You tried really hard to be a soldier, and we saw that in you. So, um, we got you a present. Donut thought of it and we… kinda had to call a favor from Wyoming to get it since we have no money, but _anyway_… I told the guys how much Crystal Athena meant to you, so we found you something to remember her with."

He handed me the box. I wiped my hands clean of cookie crumbs and opened it. Inside was a necklace made of a silver chain and…. the small silver owl pendant looked like a small statue. Its body was studded with tiny white crystals. Just like… just like… Oh God. I suddenly couldn't see it because of my tears. The necklace became a silvery blur I couldn't focus on. I choked.

"We're really proud of you, Star." Continued Church. "We're glad you made it home safe. Just try not to drop in on any more missions, okay?"

I nodded, then threw the box on the table and jumped up so I could hug him and cry properly.

"You don't have to—" _Thump._ "Alright. Maybe you do…"

Sarge sniffed. "Aw damn, where's my hanky?"

"Uh oh. Hey Grif, your girl's hugging another guy." Tucker called, laughing.

Grif whipped a dinner roll at him. "Shut up!"

I giggled and peered up at Church's face. Or, rather, his helmet's visor. I wondered if he would have preferred to smile right now. "Thank you for saying all that. And for the present."

"I'm glad you like it, but I think my Nice Guy Quota has been filled for the next month. Which reminds me… Hey Grif."

I froze. He'll tell. DAMMIT!

"What?" asked Grif.

I stood on tiptoe so I could reach Church's shoulders. "Don't. You. Dare!"

"Did you know—"

"SHHHH!" I hissed.

"What, did you spring a leak?" Church asked me, teasing.

I whispered, "Don't tell him. I SWEAR to God."

"Uh… tell me what…?" asked Grif, scratching his head.

Church would have been smiling NOW, probably with a smirk and everything. "Why not?"

"Because I'll freaking kill you. Again!"

"With what?"

"I have my ways!"

"I think I ought to tell him."

"He doesn't need to know!"

"Sure he does. It's important."

"What's so important that I should know?" Grif cut in between Church and I.

"No it's not!" I protested.

Church spoke louder. "So, Grif—"

"That's it! I'm running away with your helmet! And sicking my hamster on you!"

"Why don't you tell him yourself?"

"I don't WANT to." By now my face was Red Army red.

"Tell me WHAT, you guys?"

"That I really, REALLY like you!" I blurted out in a shout.

Silence. Then, Tucker fell off the bench laughing.

"Awww!" said Donut.

I smacked both hands to my burning face. Church snorted. I kicked him in the groin. It wouldn't have hurt him any, but he still protected himself out of reflex, which still looked stupid. "You're an ASS." I snarled at him, and pulled up my sweatshirt hood to hide in it.

"Hey, somebody's got to have the job. Why don't you turn around? He's grinning at you."

"I'd rather hide under the table, thank you."

Clearly he was enjoying this. "It's not so hard. All you have to do is—HEY!"

Which is why Tex now had him by the back of his armor and was pulling him backward. "That's enough, Romeo. You're going to lead the girl into heat stroke."

"But I wasn't finished!" Church cried, trying to wiggle away from her.

She didn't let him. "Oh yes you are."

I sat down with my back to Grif, hunched down as far as I could go. Oh. My. GOD. Maybe I could have told him _eventually_, but not in front of everyone! This is like one of those high school nightmare situations that I never had. It was supposed to be SECRET. Or, MOSTLY a secret. How are you supposed to tell a guy that you like him, in a way OTHER than this humiliation of my life right now?

"I do not understand," said Delta. "I was under the impression that this is something everyone knew. Why is Starath so embarrassed?"

York chuckled. At the same time, he picked up my rigid body and turned me 180 degrees. "I'll explain later."

Wait, since when could EVERYONE know about—did that—did he—? Somebody hugged me and I squeaked. The embrace felt familiar. I couldn't remember when I'd gotten it before.

"You're cute when your face is red." said Grif.

"Eeeeeeek….."

"And when you make your cute noises." I buried my face into Grif's Hawaiian shirt and kept squeaking.

The side door to the garage creaked open. A waft of icy air marched through the room and ran up the openings of my pants and sweatshirt.

"Master Chief on deck!" barked Sarge.

Within a moment everyone was standing upright, including myself. I didn't have to salute too, but I did so anyway, somewhat clumsily. The door banged shut. Master Chief would have had to stoop a little bit to get through it. He looked over us. Damn, he is _still_ so impressive. There were moments when I understood why some people would worship the ground he walked on. All he had to do was _stand __there_ to be cool.

"At ease, men. Did I miss the party?" He sort of had, but I didn't think anyone would tell him that. I had a funny feeling he'd decided to drop in just to see what was going on, not to participate. He wasn't exactly very social.

"Not at all, Sir!" said Donut. "There's plenty of leftovers in the kitchen if you'd like some!"

"Take-out will be fine."

"Okie dokie Sir!" Donut scampered into the kitchen area of the garage. Doc followed after him.

"Christine."

My stomach clenched up. If I stood any straighter I might have been able to touch the ceiling. "Yes, Sir?"

Master Chief reached behind him and pulled out a tightly wrapped bundle. He approached me slowly, probably well aware that he made me nervous. Then again, he was probably used to making anyone nervous if they weren't fellow Spartans. "It came to my attention that you lost your jacket and gloves during the course of the mission last month. I found a suitable replacement for you."

I took the bundle and held it to my chest. It was slightly warm. "Thank you, Sir. That's very kind of you."

Master Chief nodded. "I trust you will find this useful."

"Oh, most definitely, Sir." _Must __resist __urge __to __hug __Master __Chief! __That __would__ be __a __very __inappropriate__ thing__ to __do!_

Doc came up to us with a large container that smelled of our day's meal. "Uh, Sir? We weren't sure if you liked chicken or steak or pot roast, so we gave you all three." He nervously pushed up his glasses. It was odd to see him wearing them when he usually wore contacts. "I, uh, hope you don't mind."

"So long as it's edible and not a M.R.E."

"Nope, it's real cooking. We have more if you want any, Sir."

"I'll keep that in mind, Private DuFresne."

Oh. So he came to give me something and to get free food. Smart man.

Master Chief didn't stay with us much longer. It was a shame, but we understood. He was a busy guy, usually. Between training the Blood Gulch crew and saving the universe once and awhile, he had little free time. Grif walked me home that evening. I was still embarrassed over what Church had tricked me into saying. It turned out Grif had known all along anyway, somehow.

He laughed at my reaction again. "I might be lazy, but I'm not stupid." He said.

So _maybe_ it was a little obvious. And he liked me too, a little, I guess. Yay.

We sat in my living room for a little while, talking about the night's epic Nerf Gun fight. Sarge swore up and down that the Reds had won. Church begged to differ. I stayed out of it along with Tex and York. The battle eventually spilled over into the snow outside. Marines with snowballs were hilarious to watch. Everything had always been competition to them, but by now it was cheerful competition between friends.

"Hey Grif, can I ask you something?" I said, stretching out on the couch.

He tucked his hands behind his head. "Shoot."

"Remember in the pine forest, when you said you wanted to feel like a soldier?"

"Yeah?"

"Well… did you ever feel like one during the mission?"

He sat back in his recliner and inhaled deeply, staring into space. Finally, he nodded. "There were a few moments, actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Like, in the caves, when we were fighting that Elite and I helped Simmons grab it before it fell on Sarge. And when… when you fell asleep on me after your meltdown."

"I had a meltdown?"

"Yeah, when you… That's right. Church said you must've forgotten because of the stress or something." He gave me a side-glance, "Anyway, I knew what I had to protect that day."

I smiled sadly and touched the owl pendant hanging from my neck.

"And when we were gearing up for the final go. I hate glory charges, but only because I hate running. The rest of it… I remember pulling you along, then losing you. It was the worst feeling in the world. But I had to help my teammates and trust that others would find and help you. It's that cohesion of a unit I don't think we've ever had, Star. The whole Red versus Blue thing was an easy gig and all, and I loved it, but I think… I like this new stuff too. In a different way. You know, because I have to work at things and stuff. One of these days I'll beat Caboose at arm wrestling."

I giggled.

"So, yeah. That's it." He shrugged. "Aren't you gonna see what the coat looks like?"

"Huh?"

"The coat Master Chief gave you."

"Oh." I grabbed the dark green bundle off the coffee table. It took a few minutes before I figured out how it been folded up. "Geez. He didn't want this thing escaping."

"Military folds suck to make and undo. You got it?"

"Yeah." I stood up and let the coat come apart. It was a nice, thick winter coat that had a hood connected to it with snaps. A military-issued coat, most likely. I tried it on. It was a little big in the shoulders, but it fit. "Wow, cool." I checked the pockets and found a pair of black leather gloves. "Wow. He sure is generous. How do I look?"

"Like a million bucks." Grif grinned. It made my knees tickle.

"Awesome." I stuffed the gloves back in the pockets. My hand bumped into something smooth. "Huh?"

"What'd you find?"

"I dunno. Something wrapped in paper." I pulled the coat off and threw it over the back of the couch. The brown paper had been folded into a tight little rectangle. Something moved around inside. I pried it open and spread the paper out. Grif grabbed the nearby lamp and dragged it closer to the coffee table. A silver chain and two dog tags glistened in the light. I turned one of them over. It had an eagle on it. The bird had a lightning bolt in its claws and a bunch of arrows in the other set of claws. It looked familiar.

"Holy crap, Star." Grif's eyes widened. "Do you know what that is?"

I shook my head and looked at the other tag. It had my nickname, Starath, stamped on it, along with '_UNSC__ Private, __RvB__ Team, __Earth __Sector_' underneath.

I drew in a sharp breath. "Wow."

When I picked up the dog tags, I saw a message written in pen, in neat, blocky letters:

_You earned it. –M.C._

* * *

_END._

_Wow. This is the biggest writing project I've done to date. Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading! _


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